


The End Is The Beginning

by freckles_n_feathers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Drug Use, Endverse, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-05-18 20:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 133,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5941693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckles_n_feathers/pseuds/freckles_n_feathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 11 AU where Dean and Cas take a journey to a parallel universe that holds more mystery and adventure than they anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I had for a pseudo Endverse story, and I just love the idea of Castiel meeting Endverse!Cas so I had to write about it :-) It's canon up to the end of season 10 but it really goes off course and has nothing to do with what's going on now in Supernatural season 11 other than the MoC removed, unleashing the darkness. I have thrown in some of my own headcanon in there as well. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this adventure!

* * *

 

 

 

He's dreaming again. He knows this because he made damn sure the bottle of whiskey he polished off last night would prohibit him from moving from his bed, and going out to find some asshole to punch or some chick to bang, because really, he needs neither of those things. What he needs is for the nightmares to stop but as predicted, upon failure of the booze not doing its goddamned job at shutting off his brain, or rem sleep or whatever the fuck a drunk induced slumber is supposed to do, he's back there, seeing it again.

He'd be lying if he said that he has any idea why the hell he's reliving this screwed up time. Why he's dreaming about that infected city in some dystopian future, bought and served to him by the most awesome Zachariah. The buildings, just skeletons of a town that once had life and hope, had been the center of an outbreak that Lucifer unleashed upon the earth, because why just kill everyone when you can turn them into cannibalistic zombies, and then watch them all do that job for you?

And then there was the fantastic moment of watching himself die. Not him, but his future self's (now past?) neck crack under Lucifer's (Sam's) foot. If that asshole Zach taught him one thing back then, it was to never become an angel's bitch, fallen or not.

Of course, that leaves him with the vivid memory of the one fallen angel that would make him forget all about that rule and he's the center of every dream. Not _his_ Cas, but the -love guru hippy fallen angel- who stood by that dick… his _other_ self's side, just to end up as cannon fodder. Poor Castiel, who'd given everything for him and _that_ Dean probably never even said, "Thanks, man"

Now he has to stare at those blue eyes as that blade sinks deeper into his gut, by a hand he can't even see. Cas, who's falling to his knees as Dean gets there just in time to watch him die in his arms. He always tries to say something to him, his dry lips move without sound and Dean always responds the same way, "Cas, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

That's when he usually wakes up, but this time the dream is a little different. There's someone else there with them in the cabin. Dean scans the area, without letting go of a now very dead Castiel but the cabin is empty, aside from him and a rapidly cooling former angel. He hears the beads on the door move as the wind from outside blows through, sending a new kind of chill through Dean that he never thought he can possible feel.

"Who's there?" Dean cries out to the absolute eerie silence of his surroundings, save the tapping of the beads as they shuffle in the breeze.

He knows he's dreaming and yet he's compelled to let it play out. There's a reason why these nightmares have been tormenting him for the last few weeks since the Darkness was released. There's a reason why, when all seemed quiet, despite the hell he helped unleash on the world, his mind keeps coming back here to this time, to this very scene, over and over, almost every night.

This never happened when he came here all those years ago. Cas didn't die by a blade to the stomach in the middle of his love den. No, he followed Dean and all those other hopeless sacs into the death star. He went into battle and most likely died during the skirmish.

Then again, Dean never saw Cas die. He had that wonderful conversation with his brother aka Lucifer and then he was back in his time. Lesson _supposedly_ learned but the look on Zach's face was so fucking worth it when Dean gave him his usual, "Nah," just moments before being zapped to the side of a road where Cas had been waiting for him all night. All damn night.

" _I'll just wait here then."_ Dean thinks of the song from Marie's musical. His heart breaks.

"Cas, man. Why do you always have to be so stubborn? Why do you always stand by my side and never give up on me? Why would you walk into a certain death, just at the off chance I'd survive a showdown with Lucifer?"

" _All we have left I think, Dean and me, is each other."_

Those words are now repeating in his head. Cas, high, drunk, probably riddled with stds, had only one person he needed to be loyal to. Dean fucking Winchester. _Him._ He never deserved Cas. He _doesn't_ deserve him, now or in whatever reality he's living in. He'd taken a beating by him, only because Dean was out of his damn mind, and still, he went to Sam as an aid to help cure him.

"Dammit, Cas. You and Sam, you're both fucking idiots. You never give up, but that's why I lo-"

He doesn't want to let go of Cas, but when he looks down at his own pants that are now covered in blood, he moves Cas' head from his lap and gently lays him down on the floor. A few frozen moments are spent staring at him. His eyes are closed, his messy dark hair, which should really be illegal for how adorable it is, his sad expression that is probably the one image that will haunt him forever.

He remembers thinking last time he was here that he'd love to take a pair of scissors to those messy bangs that rested, unevenly, right above his eyebrows, but then he thought that he'd miss it. It's cute, it's Cas. It's exactly how Cas would look if he became human, smack dab in the middle of an apocalypse. The only other time Dean saw Cas human was when the angels fell, and well, thankfully his Cas hadn't gone the orgy route because really, Dean thinks he would have had a major issue with it.

Even while he tried to explore his newfound humanity, and died at the hands of a reaper who'd taken advantage of Cas, he was hopeful. He trusted her. He thought she was good, helpful. He spent the night with her and when Dean had arrived, he wasn't even sure what his heart was doing. It was breaking, yeah, he remembers that, but that look on Cas' face, so sad. _So fucking sad_. Sinking that blade through that reaper bitch was the most gratifying thing he's ever done.

Cas is older than dirt, yet so naive, sometimes. Angels don't have hearts? Bullshit. Cas' heart is bigger than most humans he knows and that, my friends, is why Cas is different than those dickbags in the penthouse.

He looks down again at him and wonders why he's seeing this, every night. Why Cas? Why not Lucifer? Or _Sam...cifer_?

It's too quiet. Where is everyone? Where's Chuck? They hadn't brought the whole camp to the city, so where did they go?

There's movement to his left and when he snaps his head, all he could see is a silhouette, due to the sun shining too brightly in his face. He can't make out who it is, but someone's there and he realizes at that moment he's unarmed. He quickly turns to his dead angel and feels like a complete asshole for doing this, but he picks up the very blade that snuffed out his friend's life and turns back to the figure, who is now gone.

"Son of a…"

Dean wakes in a cold sweat, again. Sure, nothing new. His mouth is dry, head pounding like someone has gotten a hold of a hammer and decided to have fun with his skull. His stomach, queasy as all hell, and when he blinks his eyes open, he glances at the tall glass of water Sam left for him on the bedside table.

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean groans as he sluggishly lifts and turns to grab it. He swallows every last drop before clumsily placing the empty glass down. Scrubbing his face with his clammy palm, he moves to the side of the bed and plants his feet onto the floor. He takes a second look at his hand and thinks, _"I just wiped my face with my own sweat, good job."_

His feet are cold so he finds his trusty _dead man's slippers_ to go along with his equally ancient robe, and he silently thanks the men of letters for thinking of such things. Really, why hadn't he ever thought of buying stuff like this while on the road? Then again, motel nights were usually spent fully clothed, if they hadn't been ruined or soaked in blood. Being caught in a dire situation in his drawers was never on the table.

He can hear Sam already up and in the kitchen, if the clangs and bangs of pots and pans were any indication. He assumes Cas is there with him, filling him in on his vast knowledge of the Darkness, and by vast, he means, jack squat. It's not that he blames Cas, he's a young angel compared to the rest of them, and he's pretty sure those dickbags upstairs kept all sorts of important crap from him. I mean, why give anyone knowledge of a goddamned mark of Cain being the lock and key to the very thing that can destroy the universe? That would just make too much sense, right?

And poor Cas, trying so hard to help after being cured from the witch's spell, which had honestly left them all dumbfounded as to how in the hell she was able to whammy him in the first place. They filled Dean in on the shenanigans that led up to the Rowena/Book of the Damned fiasco, but there's still a hell of a lot more that they haven't told him and he might sit them both down today and have that 'talk' they've all been putting off.

First and foremost, Dean has to have a deep one on one with Cas, because if these nightmares aren't enough to freak him the fuck out, the painful reality that he had hurt his best friend, when all he was doing was trying to save Dean from the monster that he was becoming, chills him to the bone. Every time he looks at him now, it's all he sees. Oh and the image of a blade through his gut. _Thank you, dreams._

Their first few days back after the Darkness was released and finding Cas somewhere in a dank, empty warehouse, were uneventful. Then strange shit started happening, as it always did. So for each run of the mill job they completed, they weren't any closer to finding out how to stop whatever they unleashed, and was it even gank-able? Dean likes his made up words, even when Sam rolls his eyes and Cas looks at him with that eye-squint-head tilt he does.

They've been back for four days straight with no jobs to do and without being able to fight something, Dean is left with his own brain and that can be a very dangerous thing. So each night is spent with a fifth of whiskey, some beer if he's feeling adventurous, Netflix binges, and a deep, _deep_ burial of his feelings.

So, is this supposed to be something new?

"Dean, I thought for sure your liver would have given out by now," Sam says as he wipes his hands on a dish towel. _Was he just washing dishes? How domestic._

"Yeah, that makes two of us."

Dean reaches for the pot of coffee and when he notices that it's cold, he growls. While he begins to make a fresh pot, he looks around the room. "Where's Cas?"

"He's out. He said he needed to pick up something."

Dean freezes with the empty carafe held under the running water. _Did he just hear that right?_ "He what?"

Sam frowns. "What? He said he'll be right back."

"Mother fu… Sam, is he even okay to be out there, alone? He's not even… he's still healing from…"

That's another thing that's been going on. After Cas was cured from that attack dog spell, he hasn't really been himself. Dean chalks it up to hoodoo residue, but then he thinks it might be a little deeper than that.

Cas is an angel and Dean has no idea what kind of relationship he still has with Heaven, but Cas was able to have a spell put on him and well, there's something up with that and if he will bet any amount of money (that he doesn't have), it has something to do with his grace. The grace that Meta-Douche stole and used to make the angels fall. Cas' very essence that made him the all powerful badass he is, was used against him.

So has Dean been an overprotective prick over Cas lately? You bet your ass he has. He suspects the nightmares are playing a role in that as well.

The timing couldn't have been more perfect for Cas to walk in, a plastic shopping bag hanging over his wrist and his hair a little messed up. _Must be windy outside._ Dean turns to him, smiles, and a flash of hippy Cas is right in front of him, so he shakes it off.

It's weird seeing different versions of people you know, including yourself, but he's seen two versions of Cas now. The hippy and the one known as Misha, when they were sent to Balthazar's bizarro world.

Dean admits that it was fucking weird, as both versions were nothing like the Castiel that's standing before him now.

"Where the hell--"

"Good morning, Dean. Sam," Cas says with the hint of a smile.

"Hey Cas," Sam says, quickly turning to Dean.

"Why--" Dean is pissed. He's mad at Sam for letting Cas out of his sight and even more mad at Cas for even thinking it.

"I noticed you guys were out of coffee and I know how much you depend on it every morning, so I went to the store and-"

"Decided to buy us some? Alone?" Dean interrupts. "And whose car did you take? 'Cause I know your wings aren't working."

"Dean!" Sam shoots him a glare and turns back to Cas. "Thanks, Cas. That's awesome."

"I took Sam's car, knowing how you would probably be against me taking the Impala. Is this okay, Dean? You seem upset."

Upset doesn't even describe how he feels right now. As absurd as the two of them probably think it is, it's still not fucking safe to be out there alone with a certain doom looming over their heads, ready to strike at any given moment. And if that's not enough, Cas isn't one hundred percent, he's not entirely himself, and fuck all if he's going to let anything happen to him, to any of them, because they needed fucking coffee.

His jaw clenches and his hands curl into fists but he breathes slowly, calming himself before unleashing a holy hell on Cas. It's not right, he knows that. Cas is just… Cas, he does this shit, whether he can fly or not. He thinks, 'oh coffee' and just goes, not thinking twice about it.

So instead of scolding him like a goddamned child - because Dean knows that's exactly how it looks - he accepts the bag from Cas, gives him a watered down, "Thanks", and continues making himself a pot of much needed caffeine.

Hangovers suck. Patience is usually non existent after a night of drinking and this morning is no different. He could be a complete asshole and chew Cas out for being a goddamned idiot but he won't. He'll bite his tongue (and his inner cheek), maybe mumble to himself, incoherently enough so that his brother and Cas can't understand him, he'll drink his coffee, and start the day a new.

And be as bitter as the contents of his mug.

Although, Cas _did_ buy a good brand, a name brand at that, not the usual no frills - no name ones he usually buys. They've been living at the bunker for almost three years now and neither one of them can figure out the good coffee brands as opposed to the shitty ones. They've been so used to just single cup servings from motel lobbies, or whatever Sheila the waitress offered at any truck stop or road side diner they'd rest in.

But Cas bought them Maxwell House and sure, bitter, but good to the last drop. Those fuckers weren't lying.

He's left alone in the kitchen to shake off his hangover and who could blame them? He's not the nicest person the morning after and he sure as hell isn't a pleasure to be around, by any means. It would have been nice to have a warm breakfast waiting for him, but since it's well after eleven, he's pretty sure Sam’s already been there done that, and sneaked in a jog while he was at it.

So he'll sit here, ponder about life, how much more whiskey he could drink tonight, maybe contemplate searching for a new porn site, because even _he's_ bored with it all lately. That fact alone has him questioning his own sanity. When Busty Asian Beauties no longer offers him a night of self indulgence, something has to be going on, and if cats and dogs start living together, he'll know why.

"Dean."

And there's Cas. He can't just let Dean be, can he? He always knows. The fucker. Always. Knows.

"Cas, have a seat."

"Dean, I could tell you're upset. I'm sorry, I should have told you, before-"

Dean looks up at him and for a second, he sees the cold dead eyes of the Cas in the cabin, his wispy bangs clinging to a moist brow, the look of utter despair and maybe shock? Dean has to close his eyes and open them again to get rid of that image and focus on the very real, very _alive_ Castiel that is now taking his seat across from Dean.

"Look, we're in the dark, pun intended. I just need you to be more careful. You're not fully juiced. You lied about that."

"I know, I… I'm so sorry, Dean."

So are they going to do this now? No, his head hurts too much and he doesn't want to think about the weeks of lies and deceit his best friend and his brother had been involved with. Greater good, yeah he gets it, hell he would have done the same but still, lies man, fucking lies, always grinds his gears.

Those lies that covered up Charlie working with them, Rowena working with them. The Book, oh yea, not burned, and Cas' adventures with the now human Metatron, who by the way, has a demon tablet.

Sure, Cas got his groove back, he wasn't going to burn out on borrowed grace, but that fucking scribe did something to it and they have yet to discuss it. Of course, Dean is aware that this grace business is, well, Cas' _own_ business. He really shouldn't meddle, provoke any kind of explanation because what right did he have? It's personal to Cas, he knows that, but then the very real sting comes that usually follows the realization that Cas doesn't trust Dean enough to talk to him about it.

Or maybe he just can't stand him now. That's probably more likely. He did thank Cas for helping Sam with a nice fist to the face (or five), and a kick to the stomach, some more pounding of the head against whatever object was conveniently in the way, and yeah, almost sinking an angel blade through him.

Then there's hippy Cas again, confused, his eyebrows arched in such a way, the look alone could make a grown man cry. Clutching his stomach, blood beginning to pool and spread over his stupid hippy shirt, the white turning red and…

"Dean?"

_Right. Bunker. 2015. Not Chitaqua._

"Yeah, sorry. Head still pounding." _And heart breaking, throat closing, sweat beading…_

"Oh." Cas reaches into his trench that he _isn't_ wearing and is draped over the other chair next to him, and pulls out a bottle of… aspirin?

_Oh Cas, you son of a bitch. I could kiss you right now… or, I mean..._

"I remember you gave me these when I drank too much." Cas hands him the pills and Dean grins as he opens it, swallowing two with a coffee chaser.

"Yeah, but you drank an entire liquor store. Man, we should hustle people with drinking contests, Raiders style, don't you think?"

"Marion Ravenwood?"

Dean barks, almost choking on his drink. "Yeah, I forgot how much shit you know now."

"I know that it's a very dishonest way to make money," Castiel says with a blank expression.

"Yeah well, so is credit card fraud and pool hustling. You don't see me complaining."

"So you would like me to be your… partner in scamming people?"

Dean sighs. Although, the idea is fucking awesome and yeah, imagine that; taking Cas out, doing a shot for shot with some machismo barfly, Cas pretending he's getting drunk but keeps on, until the other sucker passes out and then boom, easy money. Maybe a few years ago that would have been exactly what they would have done, but now?

"Nah, I'll keep your integrity in check."

"Oh well, thank you. No brothels then too, I assume."

Dean laughs. Fucker can't let that go, ever. Five years? Six years later? And he still gives him a hard time about it. "Come on, man. I-I know, low move. I'd never, geez Cas."

What he wants to say is, I will never take you to a place like that ever again because you are way too damn special to be giving away your shit to some hooker. He wishes that night never happened, although, it had been a hell of a good time. Cas trying to console a fucking prostitute. Only Cas.

"So no drinking contests, no brothels. Is there anything else we should add to the list?"

Dean frowns, because now this is about to get serious. "Cas, what the hell is going on with you?"

Cas' tilts his head, his eyes focusing intensely on him and Dean almost forgets what they're talking about.

"With my grace? My wings?"

"Okay, start there."

"Well, I don't really know. I should be okay, but… something's wrong. I feel charged but at the same time, I know my wings are broken and I can't resurrect or else I would have… uh,-"

"Charlie, not your fault, and I know you would have. Keep going."

"It might have to do with Metatron using it for the spell, or something else, maybe… maybe it has something to do with Heaven."

He's holding back, Dean knows it. There're more possibilities as to why he's flightless and at half power but he's not saying it. It's okay, Dean won't pry although he really, _really_  wants to know. It's gotta suck and honestly, he can't even imagine what Cas must be feeling right about now. An angel who can't fly. Fuck, that's gotta sting.

"Alright so look, until we know what's what, you gotta lay low. You're not all powerful and if anything… you just gotta be careful, man."

"I will, Dean."

"When we've been doing jobs, it's all three of us, all for one, one for all, right? So let's keep it that way, just for now."

"I understand, Dean."

Sure he does, this is Cas we're talking about. Castiel, angel of the lord, who knows Dean inside (literally) and out. Who has put Dean back together again after his fall in hell. Cas understands Dean. He gets it. He knows why he's on edge, paranoid, and being a total prick.

He _will_ get up the courage one of these days or millennia to talk to Cas about the ‘thou shall not be discussed' topic of when he beat him to a pulp. He's pretty sure Cas understands that as well. Dean, not in his right mind, and hell, Dean's seen Cas like that a time or two. He'll never forget that moment in the crypt, Cas' determination to protect that stupid tablet, and pummeling Dean was the only way out.

Funny thing about that night, when Cas took off with that dumb piece of rock because he didn’t trust Dean with it,  hurt a hell of a lot more than any punch he'd delivered.

"But thanks for the java. Really. My very being thanks you."

Castiel smiles and... _where are we again? Bunker, right._ "Anytime Dean, of course, with all of us buying it together, next time."

"Good."

And now it's time for the silent staring contest. Who's gonna break this time? Usually Dean, and usually because his face is so red he has to turn away before it literally ignites on fire. Why does Cas' eyes do that to him? Fuck if he knows, but it's been like that since day one and there's not a damn thing he can do about it.

This time, though, Cas gets up and leaves. Dean watches him walk into the other room and pick up a book, making himself comfortable in one of the oversized comfy chairs along the wall. The overhead lamp is shining on his head and Dean swears it looks like a damn halo.

Angel. _His_ angel. He's gotta help him sort out this grace crap.

_He's gotta stop him from being stabbed in the cabin. No wait, wrong Cas_.

He tries to see it again in his mind, because why not torture himself with a recurring nightmare that he is sure to have again tonight or tomorrow night. _Waiting's for suckers._ Dean's mind is analytical and if he's going to be having the same dream for weeks, he's going to dissect the fuck out of it and figure out what in the hell it's trying to tell him.

Because no one has that shit happen unless it's for a reason.

So he sees the cabin, those damn stupid hippy beads, Cas' fru fru throws and curtains separating the bedroom from the living room, the coffee table, rug, there's a bathroom? Yeah, there’s gotta be, right? Who the hell hosts that many orgies without a place to wash off the filth? The sex fluids of a dozen people, contaminating the very space that Cas spends every waking hour. And okay, Dean's not bitter.

He sees the bed - king sized, very nice for a shit hole existence, and he imagines how many people he's had in the bed at a given time. Four? Five? More? He's seen enough porn to know what happens in orgies but has never been past the threesome mark. Unless he counts his misadventures with Crowley, and well, he'd rather not go down that road of ick. As far as Dean's concerned, what happens in demonland, stays in demonland.

And fuck Crowley for trying to never let him forget (okay, on that road now). Really, Dean must have rocked his world because even the goddamned King of Hell won't leave him alone. Funny thing about Crowley, he talks a good evil game, but chip off all the demon crap, and he's just another man who wants to be loved. Too bad Dean isn't the dude to give it to him. Okay, not too bad, the fucker doesn't deserve shit, but who is Dean to judge? He participated in the debauchery while living the life of a carefree demon, and thought howling at the moon meant singing karaoke off key and banging waitresses.

Crowley had other things in mind and when he wasn't orchestrating his own group sex sessions, he was trying to convince Dean to be his partner, in more ways than one. Okay, he wanted Dean as his - and dare he even think it - boyfriend. Life partner? Mate? Like seriously, Dean laughed when Crowley said it and he didn't mean to be a dick. Okay, he probably did because… _demon_ , but there was nothing that Dean would not have given back then, just to tell that guy to fuck off. He needed Crowley, though, the mark and the blade were becoming really hard to handle, and even with the black eyes, he needed someone there to keep things in perspective.

And then that blew up. They, uh _broke up?_ as Crowley put it. Honestly Dean hadn't even thought of them together. The casual sex, that yes, he and Crowley had here and there, did not, by any means make Dean his bitch. The only thing Crowley did have over the others is, he knew Dean wasn't straight. He knew he was into guys as much as girls and… he's not saying this out loud right now, right? okay good.

Dean really hasn't been with a guy in many, _many_ years. It's not that he's been repressing it, and okay maybe he was, _is_ , who knows, but things had gotten so out of hand, their lives turning upside down and sideways, he barely had time for any extracurricular activities. One night here and there, but few and far between, and it had made the art of jerking off more of a habit than past time for him.

Maybe that's why Busty Asian Beauties bores him now. Too much of a good thing?

Wait, wasn't he trying to remember his dream? Right, so he's in the cabin, Cas' hippy dippy love den, okay. Bed; check, _right that's where he got carried away by group sex thoughts and his dry spells with men and women_. Nice bed, then there's Cas looking at Dean, that face, dammit, that face, and why, why, why would anyway stab this Cas? He's clutching his stomach, blood dripping, and seeping…

He's missing something, _someone_. Cas didn't stab himself, this wasn't a suicidal event. Cas was shocked, confused, he wasn't brooding over losing his only friend to the hands of his brother, and oh, Dean's brother too, how convenient. But every time Dean can almost make out the other figure in the room, it's gone just like that. It's like it's in his peripheral, only to disappear once he faces it head on.

Who the fuck can it be? The killer? Someone trying to help? An actual friend trying to stop Cas from being stabbed in his very human body?

It's going to drive him crazy, he's almost tempted to find that nasty tea crap Sam made that time to make them go to sleep, just so Dean could revisit this and find out what in the hell it's trying to tell him. He'll sacrifice his taste buds and drink that concoction that tastes like ass, just so he can solve this riddle, and maybe then, the damn nightmares will stop.

But that would require him getting Sam involved, which means Cas too, and they'll definitely want to come with, and having the both of them in his subconscious is just not gonna happen. His luck he'll have that dream where he's trying on panties in Victoria's Secret and secretly jerking off in the dressing room, seeing himself in silky, lace underwear and… fuck, he has a hard on now. He shifts in his chair and starts to chuckle at just how fucked up his mind really is.

Not that wearing girl's panties is fucked up, because honestly, don't knock it 'til you've tried it, but the fact that he's so embarrassed by his own fantasies that the thought of his brother and best friend seeing them is just too close for comfort. Even if there's a chance they wouldn't see _that_ at all and actually help him in figuring out why he's seeing Cas stabbed to death in a 2014 parallel universe, that he had been sent to in 2009, to teach him a lesson by the assholes running Heaven at the time, Dean still feels uneasy about it.

He should tell them, include them, but not now. He wants to see how long it takes for him to figure it out because maybe there's nothing to even worry about. Could be some weird traumatic memory from the time he was there, or maybe after everything that's happened, he's feeling guilt over what he's done to Cas, so really, maybe this is all just something that'll blow over. Eventually. One of these days.

Relieving his guilt could be a way to stop it. He could talk to Cas, open up, let him know how sorry he is for hurting him, beg him to forgive him, and all that. Dean's never too eager to have these kinds of talks, but he does have them. What did Marie call them? BM scenes? Boy Melodrama. Yeah, Dean's got that down to an art form.

He can admit it. He doesn't have to hide behind his once 'no chick flick moments' persona, because he knows how full of shit it all was. Dean likes to get things off his chest, he likes to make sure others do the same. He's just really, _really_ bad at doing it. It usually ends up with him ending the conversations too early and assuming all is right like rain, whatever the fuck that saying means.

His coffee is now cold, because he completely forgot all about it. Oh well. His head feels much better now. _Thanks Cas._ He rises from the chair and peeks over at the angel, his face deep into that book and damn, it must be some good reading material because he's all up on that shit. He has no idea where Sam is but if he has to guess, he's probably on his laptop in his room, investigating something that's pre-biblical and probably has less info about it than the mark of Cain did. But go Sam, go. If anyone can find anything on _anything_ , it's Sam.

Dean finds himself back in his room, after grabbing a sandwich from the fridge, his bed not made which is strange, even for him. He falls on his back, the mattress molding to his curves and he closes his eyes. He's not sure he'll be able to fall back asleep but being bored out of his mind is why he's left to just do… nothing. He could jerk off, maybe try and bring back the panties scenario, but even as aroused as that makes him, he just blows it off.

He needs some kind of closure. With the dreams. With the hell that they've all been through in the past couple of years. It's all in the air, all these unspoken words, all this regret, and pain, it's going to strangle him if he doesn't do something about it soon. Why isn't Sam bringing it up? He's usually the one who initiates these Lifetime moments. Why does it have to be Dean?

And just as he thinks that, he knows the answer.

He lived almost two years with a curse that turned him into something that scared even himself. He was out of control, lost, angry, a fury that he'd never felt before. Sam and Cas are giving _him_ space, giving _him_ time to adjust. Damn. He doesn't want that though. He doesn't want time, or PTSD therapy, he just wants his brother and best friend back. He wants them to be like it was, screwing around and doing jobs, and fighting the good fight. An unbreakable team. Team Free Will.

Can they ever get back there?

 

* * *

 

 

"Dean, I'm so glad you made it."

That voice… Dean spins around on his heel and there's Cas, strolling across the floor in his Birkenstocks, and okay he takes good care of his feet, probably uses oils and all that shit. He's smiling… _not bleeding_ , good sign. This is all entirely new, a new dream, a new setting, and he can go with this, because now he can probably talk to him and get some information.

"Cas, what's going on, why are you-"

"Come sit, eat. Then we can talk," Cas says as he lowers himself onto the sofa and gestures for Dean to join him.

He's not bleeding, dying, and he did go through all this trouble to make a damn steak dinner that, to be honest, Dean has not had in ages. The aroma alone is making his stomach start begging for it, so he takes his seat next to Cas and glances briefly at him, before reaching down for his plate.

"It's great meat, we have the best livestock and cattle in a one hundred mile radius. Eat up."

Hell if Dean's not going to and wow, this _is_ the best steak he's ever had. Cas is watching him with a pleased look on his face, probably proud of his culinary skills, you know, in dreamland.

"This is fucking great, Cas. When did you learn how to cook?"

"When I realized this body needed nourishment," he says with a smile.

"Good call."

He finishes the food all too fast and who cares, it's a dream. He can do what he wants, and in that case, he should find out how that bed feels…

"I've really missed you. You need to visit more often."

This is still a dream and Dean is pretty sure their conversation isn't going to make a lick of sense. Dream convos rarely do. "Sure thing. You have a nice little set up here. It's… cozy."

He ain't lying.

Castiel erupts in laughter, the corners of his eyes wrinkling and he's all toothy and fuck, Dean loves that. He wishes his Cas did that. Just to laugh like this and let himself feel the joy of something, it's awesome to witness.

Dean watches him settle back onto the sofa, sinking deep into the cushions as he pulls out a joint and lights it. He takes a drag and slowly blows out the smoke, coughing a little while doing so.

Great, Cas is getting high next to him, another weirdorama thing to see but whatever, this is _his_ place, _his_ timeline, _his_ universe. Smoke 'em if you got 'em, Cas.

"Why am I here, Cas?"

Castiel smiles, blowing smoke from a another drag. "Because I asked you to be."

"Okay, but why?"

Dean settles back on the couch, his hands between his thighs as if he's cold but he's not. Cas just smiles again, taking another toke of his joint and then extends it to Dean. Dean raises his hand, blocking the transaction.

"Nah, I'm good. Cas, answer me."

"Because of things happening. All things at once. You're there but you're here. Do you think our bond is limited only to _your_ reality?"

Dean's head is spinning, trying to make sense at what Cas just said and it all kinda does, like yeah, he gets it but then it still leaves a million more questions. Why does he keep seeing Cas stabbed?

"Who's trying to kill you, Cas."

Cas' eyes widen and his face ashens to a sickly grey. Dean swallows the nervous lump in his throat because, damn, what the hell. Cas won't stop staring at Dean and suddenly, the room isn't warm and cozy anymore. It's cold and dank, wind blowing through, sending the beads into a frenzy. It distracts him and when he looks back at Cas, he's gone.

"Cas?"

A figure emerges from the bedroom, moving the fabric that separates the room aside and just like that, he’s gone and Dean wakes up, back in his bed. He glances at his watch, his eyes widen when he realizes he's been asleep for six hours.

Six hours? Already time for dinner.

He doesn't get out of bed though. He thinks of the dream, and what he saw. Cas cooked for him, he was expecting him, he said something about bonds through different realities, and fuck it's leaving his brain the harder he tries to remember.

Is Cas, _that_ Cas, alive? Is he trying to communicate to him? Impossible right? That reality shouldn't even exist anymore. Dean said 'fuck you' to destiny and then that universe should have disappeared. _He thinks_. What the hell does he really know about any of that crap and he's aware of the one person - who's probably in his room watching the second season of Breaking Bad- would be able to answer that question, but Dean is just too chicken shit to bring it up.

He's going to have to. He knows that.

But for now, he needs to take his mind off of that cabin, off of a pot smoking Cas, who made him dinner and was so happy to see him, and was looking at him like he's the most important person on the face of the planet.

That Cas is so relaxed, except for when his bleeding out, of course. But he was just sitting back on his couch, puffing on a joint, like it was the most natural thing to do. He thinks of that huge bed and Cas with a woman, no a dude… he's sure _that_ Cas swings that way, and maybe _his_ Cas does too, who knows. He knows nothing about angels and their sexual identities or preferences and maybe some did have them, some didn't.

He starts to imagine Cas out of those hippy clothes, because really, focusing on something better than watching his friend die is pretty much a necessity at this point. He bets Cas looks damn good naked, in fact, he's pretty sure of it. His skin, supple. His muscles, just perfectly toned for his body. His stomach, which Dean admits is really fucking sexy, the trail of hair that leads down to the hemline of his pants, his meaty thighs that's all muscle and…

Dean's so hard, he's throbbing and so he reaches under his sweats and grabs hold of himself and begins stroking, slowly, getting a good scenario in his head of him and Cas in that love den, in that bed. Dean's running his hand down that stomach of his and touching Cas, making him hard as he kisses his lips, his neck and fuck, yeah, those lips are so perfect. What Dean would give to really kiss them one day.

Cas is straddling Dean, taking both their cocks in his hand and jerks them, slow and steady, their tips pressed together and holy shit, Cas knows what he's doing in this fantasy.

_Yeah, Cas, make us come._

Cas moves his fist faster, staring at Dean the whole time, those blue eyes burning right into his soul, the way he always does. That glare that holds thousands of unspoken words. Thousands of wishes, promises, a deep sea of secrets and knowledge that has always given Dean’s heart a flutter.

And just like that, he's coming all over his stomach.

Dean exhales and loosens his grip and chuckles, staring at the ceiling while catching his breath, because damn that orgasm was intense, he's still shaking from it. Two things just happened here. One; he finally jerked off after what has been way too long of not doing so and two; it was over a fantasy of Cas.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It isn't the first time that he's fantasized about Cas and it certainly won't be the last. He's thought about Cas in every which way, in every place imaginable. In his car, _on_ his car, in his bed, in a motel, in that dressing room at Victoria's Secret (and for the record, Cas looks hot in purple panties), on the beach at sundown. Yeah, Dean can be romantic too, by the way.

But since the shitstorm of a year they had, Dean's been having a really hard time getting up, or rather keeping it up. He figures it’s due to boredom but then maybe it has to do with something else, altogether. He'd be lying if he said the mark didn't fuck him up. He'd be lying if he said he didn't still feel fucking weird about everything and maybe a little depressed too. That shit was hardcore and honestly, no time in the world is going to let him process everything that's happened.

He's built himself on the notion that he's a hero. Okay, maybe not a goody goody, holier than thou kind but a hero nevertheless. He looks out for the innocents, he makes sure justice is served to the monsters, but then when he became the very thing he hunted, his righteous card was revoked. Could he still walk around with his chest out, saying, "all evil beware, Dean Winchester is here," when he had sunk lower than most of the things he's hunted?

He can easily blame it on the mark, and he's aware that its influence is what led him down that dark road, but didn't all monsters have some excuse? Some reason why they were what they were and some, if not most, never even had a choice?

These are wonderful thoughts to have right after jerking off to his best friend...

He hears a knock on his door and… he has come all over himself. He quickly hops out of bed, in search for some tissues and really, he knows he's been slacking in the jerking off arena but there're no tissues around either? He finally finds a box of Kleenex in the corner of the room and has no idea how or why it ended up there. He cleans himself.

"Come in," he says hoarsely and the door opens to curious faced Cas.

"Dean, Sam's making dinner and wanted to make sure you're awake."

While the very thought of his brother making dinner sounds awesome, knowing Sam, it's going to be a healthy - probably some sort of salad involved - type of dinner, but at this point, he'll take what he can get because for the first time in a while, he has no desire to cook himself.

"Yeah, just uh, give me a sec."

 _Give me a second to process my thoughts because looking at you now, minutes after seeing your hand around my cock is a little too much right now_.

His eyes shift right to those lips and he remembers how soft they felt in that fantasy and damn, he bets they really are. His eyes meet Cas' and he's looking at him strangely now and fuck if he knows why.

"Everything okay, Dean?"

 _Define okay_. "Yeah, yeah, I uh, just woke up… again."

He moves through the door past Cas, lightly brushing against him, and he swears that the contact sends electricity through him, from his fingers to his toes and stopping right on his groin. He's attracted to him, yeah. He's always been but having him around like this, for weeks straight, like not poofing away or disappearing on him, it's driving him a little crazy.

He knows Cas spends a lot of time in the room he and Sam set up for him. Sam gave him a TV and introduced him to Netflix so Cas can binge, chill, feel at home. It's the first time he's been able to hang out with his angel in a while and he has to admit that it's really fucking awesome.

It’s really hard as well because while he'd love to sneak into his room some nights and crawl under the covers just to discover what exactly _is_ under that suit, he's also plagued with the memory of his fists against his jaw and something's gotta give because he can't live with this guilt forever. Or yeah, maybe he can. He's Dean after all, but he doesn't want to. Not with Cas.

He feels Cas' eyes burning through the back of his head as they head to the kitchen. Sam's already setting the food down on the table and Dean takes a hard look at it, expecting some stupid vegetarian lasagna or lentil salad but instead, it's nothing like that. He has to rub his eyes to make sure he's actually seeing enchiladas. Real Mexican enchiladas with the smell filling up his nostrils and causing him to actually drool.

"Wow, Sam. I'm shocked," Dean says as he sits, licking his lips.

"I got the recipe online. I went out… I brought Cas, so calm down, and got the stuff for it. Beef Enchiladas with a side of Spanish rice and corn."

Is Dean impressed? Hell yeah. Is he about to eat so much his stomach is going to be mad at him for the rest of night? Damn straight, he is. He doesn't waste any time making a plate and he's halfway through his meal when he notices Cas is eating as well. _Cas… eating?_

"Hungry, Cas?"

Cas looks over at Sam and then down at his plate, smiling so slightly that if Dean didn't know him, if he didn't know almost every expression he had, he wouldn't have noticed it. "Yes, a little. It's weird, I know. I am also very interested in sampling Sam's culinary skills."

Cas plus food means his mojo is draining and that's not a good sign. He knows what has to be done. He knows exactly what they all need to do about it and he's been putting off saying it, until now. Now, as hes witnessing Cas have some sort of intimate relationship with those enchiladas  _and did he just moan?_

They can't afford to dilly dally anymore.

"We need to find Metatron," Dean blurts out with a mouth still food of food.

Sam's brow furrows. "But-"

"Look, I don't like the idea. Hell, I hate it but we all know he's our best bet in finding out about the Darkness and more importantly, _most_ importantly," he looks at Cas, "what's going on with your grace."

Cas stares at Dean, his eyes watering and it’s making them bluer than the damn sky (and making Dean forget how to breathe). "Dean's right."

Sam sighs. "Okay well, Cas, he took your car right? I guess we can start there. I'll search if there have been any accident reports, tickets involving a 70s Continental."

Dean grins. "It's a start."

The start of a task that may or may not lead them to Dean finally killing that dick. He's thinking now of the time they had him locked up in the dungeon and Dean was ready to end him, right then and there. Of course, he can't forget the ever so ambiguous, "The river shall end at the source", which turned out to not really mean a damn thing. Or maybe it does, who the hell knows.

The asshole probably knows about the mark; what it is, its purpose, and he didn't say anything. If the universe ends because he was too much of an asshole to warn them, he's an even bigger idiot than Dean thought because the scribe ain't getting out alive either.

And so the search for Metatron begins and by that, he means Sam clicking away on his laptop with Dean retreating to his room to do the same. He's not in the mood to hang out in the library and in fact, he's been avoiding it at all costs since they've been back. Memories, _bad_ memories linger there and he has yet to deal with any of it.

He could curl into a ball and cry like a baby, lamenting over the fact that he's killed people, hurt his best friend, lost his kid sister, killed Death, and now has some kind of post-traumatic stress about all of it, but he's not going to. He's going to put on his battle armor and suck it up until he can find a way to talk about it, and really mean it when he's sorry without forcing the words out of his mouth.

He is, though; sorry. _Very_ sorry for getting the mark in the first place, for taking off with Crowley, for becoming a monster, trying to kill Sam, letting him and Cas grow apart, hurting him, then Sam, and indirectly killing Charlie. He may as well add Kevin to that list of 'people who get hurt or die because of Dean'.

When all's said and done, he's just as poisonous as he's always been and selfish enough _not_ to do anything about it. Sam, Cas, they'd be a hell of a lot better without him around to screw everything up, but he needs them too badly to take a hike. He knows this, they know it too, although the reason they stick around or let him stay, is that they claim to love him. He knows they do, no doubt about it, but is it healthy to love someone like him?

That's a question for another day.

He searches state records for anything on that pimp car and how does Metatron even see over the dashboard? That's his biggest question and he laughs just picturing it in his head. He's bored of all his searches coming up empty, he should check Netflix and see if there's a brand new series he can dive into it.

He's happy Cas is done with Orange is the New Black, because he was getting really tired of hearing his viewpoints on women in close quarters seeking comfort, both sexually and emotionally, and the real story is about sisterhood but really, Dean just wanted to see more shower scenes and couldn't give a rat's ass about the plot.

And speaking of prison, his room is too quiet, he's been holed up like a hermit for the past week and it's starting to get to him. Not that the bunker didn't offer about a million and one ways to entertain, if he's into going through file cabinets full of lore or finding a tome, like Cas does, and read about various spells used on women to ensure the sex of their baby, or the history of cults in America. All very intriguing (not) but Netflix sounds a whole lot better.

He scrolls through the new releases, hoping to find something somewhat interesting - _where does half this crap come from anyway?_ He finds a new show called _Daredevil,_ and okay, this looks good and he's always been kind of a fan this superhero, until Ben Affleck fucked that up. But this looks different, edgy and it's an actual series which means many many hours of doing nothing. Sounds perfect.

The show starts and he gets an idea. Cas has a TV (Dean isn't even sure why he hasn't gotten one for his _own_ room) and maybe this show would look a hell of a lot better on something bigger than an 15 inch laptop screen. He's lazy though and doesn't want to get out of bed and go to Cas' room if Cas is not even in it, or doing something else, so he picks up his phone and scrolls to Cas' name in his contacts.

**Dean: Hey, what ya doing? *smiley face***

(after 30 seconds)

**Cas: Dean, where are you?**

Dean laughs to himself.

**Dean: In my room. Where are you?**

**Cas: In my room. Why are you texting me?**

**Dean: Can I come over? watch netflix in there?**

**Cas: Yes**

**Dean: U R the best, Cas, be right there *grin***

**Cas: *smiley face***

Dean knocks on Cas' door just as he opens it. "Dean, you really just texted me from one room over?"

Dean laughs. "Mm hm."

Cas steps aside to let him in and Dean takes a once over. His room isn't as immaculate as he expected and come to think of it, how often has he even been in here? He can't remember. Cas' comforter is folded halfway down on the bed and Dean notices the remote control sitting on top of one of the pillows.

"What do you want to watch?" Cas asks, walking over to the bed and kicking off his shoes.

Dean plops his body down after propping a pillow against the headboard and picks up the remote. He watches Cas join and him on the bed and okay, this is cool. Him and Cas, chilling out with some Netflix. He doesn't think they ever did anything like this before, except for the many hours of Looney Tunes Cas had become obsessed with a few years back, right after he came back from Purgatory. Right after Cas said he wanted to be hunter…

And Naomi was fucking with him. Okay he has to get that shit out of his mind.

He shows Cas _Daredevil_ and Cas gives an approving nod and so they begin the show sitting next to each other in bed, their shoulders touching, legs… almost touching and Dean's not entirely sure this was a good idea, after all.

Cas is still an angel, so does that mean he can tell when Dean's aroused? Or when his heart begins to speed up every time Cas licks his lips or runs his hands down his thighs as he's doing right now? He wishes he could be Cas' hands and that didn't make any sense at all.

He's caught. Cas is staring at Dean, his eyes full of wonder and _why, why, why_ does he have to look so cute when he's confused?

"What?" Dean asks, trying to cover the fact that Cas just caught him staring at his lap.

"Nothing." Cas responds, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the TV.

_Is he smirking?_

Cas, the angel, can tell when something is up with Dean. He always has. When he got the mark, Cas knew exactly where it was and.. fuck his life, even the hippy human Cas knew Dean wasn't from his own timeline. Now he's thinking of that cabin again and... no he won't go there, not with the death or the fantasies of being in that bed with Cas.

_No, focus on the show and stop this bullshit, Dean._

Cas seems to be really getting into the show so he'll just sit back, relax, enjoy the view (in front of him, not next to him) and think about maybe asking Sam to put one of these TVs in his room too, because this is really nice.

* * *

 

It's pie this time, not steak and hell, he's not complaining. Cas is puffing on his joint, smiling, laughing, and Dean knows not to bring up dying, killers, or anything close to it, because last time it made him go away. This time, he's going to chill, eat some pie, and maybe experiment a little in what exactly he _can_ control in his dreams.

He polishes off his second slice when Cas gets up from the couch and strolls over to the bedroom and yeah, he can get down with these turn of events. He rises and follows him, moving the curtains aside. He wants to talk but he's weary of saying the wrong thing so he'll just shut up and only speak when spoken to.

_He can be obedient._

At that thought, Cas is sliding his body on the bed, pulling Dean down with him. Yes, this is absolutely where he wants this dream to go. Cas flips them over so he's on top, pressing his body firmly on Dean's while kissing his neck and then moving to his lips. Dean's hands are on his back, moving the fabric of the shirt so he can feel his skin, and he's so warm, skin so soft over the hard muscles, and exactly how he imagines Cas to feel.

There's no reason why they'd be doing this so fast, so easy, but it's a dream and well, these are the perks of it all: to allow yourself to indulge in things that normally wouldn't happen, to live out your fantasies.

Cas' lips move down to his chin, then his chest, he's lifting Dean's shirt so he can kiss and lick his stomach, and Dean now feels he’s about about to explode in his pants.

_What am I, a hormonal teenager?_

He thinks Cas wants to suck him off and by all means, Cas, go for it. He watches his fingers undo his belt, then his fly, and then he slides his pants off, bringing his underwear with it. Cas' face moves down and Dean can now feel his warm breath against his balls and… _oh shit_ , he's licking them and taking his shaft in one hand, slowly stroking him.

Cas is moving Dean's legs apart so he can bury his head deeper, using his tongue under his balls and he can't remember if anyone has ever done this to him before, but holy shit, it feels fucking amazing. He looks down, seeing Cas' grip around him, his precum leaking over his fingers and he wants that mouth on him now. Like, right now.

Cas' head pops up and he smiles, slyly as he moves his mouth to the tip, swirling his tongue across the slit, causing Dean to gasp for air. He's learned a lot while being human, these orgies have really taught him a thing or two, _and he really doesn't want to think about that right now._ Not that he's jealous or anything (okay maybe a little), but there're better things to focus on. Like how Cas is taking him in his mouth, squeezing his balls, and he's about to pump his come right into his mouth.

He doesn't know what to do with his own hands so he grabs Cas' head and plays with his messy hair, massaging his scalp, and he feels it building, his stomach filling with butterflies and then Cas suddenly stops. Dean looks down at him and his blue eyes are glistening as he's smiling.

"Dean."

"Cas."

More kisses and licks and then their eyes meet again. "Dean."

Dean's squirming under him, hoping to get his mouth back down there. "Cas."

"DEAN!"

Dean jolts out of his sleep and for a hot second, he has no idea where he is until he looks up at a very concerned Castiel, who's leaning over him. Dean goes to rub his face and realizes his hand is on Cas' head, and _oh jesus fucking christ_ , was he… playing with Cas' goddamned hair while he slept?

He sheepishly smiles, withdrawing his hand from Cas' head and swears he feels his fingers tingle as he lets go of his hair.

"You were dreaming, I wasn't going to wake you but you began writhing and calling out my name, and then…"

 _And then I grabbed Cas' head and played with his hair because in my mind, he was sucking me off._ Dean's cheeks are hot, on fire, really, and all he could do is laugh. So he does, emphatically. Cas' look of bewilderment only increases.

"Just dreaming, Cas."

_Just dreaming about being with a version of you from a time I'll never get to see again, in a bed that's too big and comfortable for its own good, in a place that probably no longer exists. A dream that had been fucking me up for weeks but now just started to get good and no one dies._

Dean hops out of Cas' bed, yawning, stretching his arms overhead. "I guess I'll go to my own room to sleep now, thanks for the TV time."

"Dean," Cas says as he's about to open the door.

Dean turns to him. "Hm?"

"Was this dream anything like the nightmares you've been having? Because by the way you were tossing and turning, it looked intense."

How the fuck… oh right... _Cas_. "So you know I've been having nightmares?"

"Yes. For quite some time now."

"And you never bothered to find out more about them?"

Dean moves back into the room and stands at the foot of the bed, ready to take his seat there if this is going to turn into one of _those_ talks and to be honest, he wouldn't hate that right now.

"No, it's your business. You'll share when you're ready."

He sits because yeah, he can do this. "Only reason I haven't shared is that I really don't know if it's even worth talking about. It might not even be anything."

"Is it involving the Darkness?"

Dean scratches his head. He's pretty sure there's no connection. "Uh, no. I mean, I don't think so."

"Well, if you need to talk, I'm here." Cas says, sighing.

He's relieved, he thinks, that Dean's not dreaming about the Darkness or the mark, and Dean's pretty happy about that as well, but it doesn't mean the dreams are anything good. Well except for the last one and he's not sure now if he can talk about it yet.

Dean's on his feet again, understanding that no, he's not going to get into it, and heads for the door, opening it before turning to Cas one last time. "Gonna get some Z's."

"Without the aid of whiskey?"

Dean freezes and wonders why he hadn't thought of that. "Good idea, thanks for reminding me." He smirks and heads to his room, which is literally right next to Cas'. In his room, a half bottle of Jim Beam is waiting for him and that's probably all he'll need tonight since he's already tired as hell.

He fills up a glass and falls down on his bed, crosses his feet and flips open his laptop. Porn? Nah, he has that dream to think about if he gets in the mood again, which might take some time since his heart's still racing from being woken up from said dream, realizing he'd been saying Cas' name out loud. Thank the heavens that it wasn't stuff like "yeah, suck that dick, Cas" or "Oh Cas, your mouth feels so good on my cock."

The room is back to being too quiet, so he closes his laptop and reaches for his mp3 player, puts his headphones on, rests against the pillows, and escapes reality with Pink Floyd's _Dark Side of the Moon._ Nothing relaxes him more than the mellow riffs of Gilmour and Waters and maybe he won't even need that second glass of booze.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

He opens his eyes and checks his watch and sighs when he sees it's 8 a.m. That means he slept through the night without another dream. He lifts his head and notices his headphones on the floor and he realizes at some point he must have thrown them off of him. He can try and go back to sleep and hopefully get back to Hippy Cas, since he really missed him last night after that great blow job that he never did quite finish. Instead he rolls out of bed, searching for his robe and slippers because _hell yeah_ , and decides to join the land of living.

But when he gets to the kitchen, it's empty. Coffee pot off, no evidence of breakfast dishes in the sink, and it's dark, except for those pesky nightlights that are scattered around the bunker and he wonders why they're even there. He flips the switch to the kitchen lights and drags his feet over to the refrigerator. He's on his own for breakfast and examining the contents of the refrigerator, he questions why on earth they haven't gone shopping for better grub.

Bowl of cereal it is, breakfast of champions.

After putting on a pot of coffee, he sits at the table, eating his sugary bowl of… whatever it is that Sam bought. Deal was, you want healthy? Fine, but it has to be sugary too. By the time the coffee is done brewing and his belly is satisfied with the two bowls of crunchy wheaty _whatevers_ , he looks at his watch. 8:30 a.m.

It's going to be a long day of him crawling out of his skin because really, how many more times can he wash the cars in the garage, reorganize the men of letters filing system, scan the bookshelves for reading material, only to end up watching TV? He has cabin fever and for a guy who's spent most of his life on the road, okay not most, _all_ , he's about to rip his head off. Being holed up in the bunker is not only getting to him, it may actually be making him psychotic and if he starts stuffing dead birds and placing them strategically around the room in some sort of reenactment of the last Game of Thrones episode he watched, he might have to off himself.

A job. They need a job.

He's back in his room on his laptop, searching desperately for a case. Anything that might look like their thing, even the far fetched ones like, ‘ _Woman slips on mysterious black goo in kitchen’_ , or ‘ _Couple drives car into lake after watching the Kardashians.’_ 'Cause ya never know, could be supernatural. He knows he's fishing but a case is a case, and if it's a bust, it's better than being cooped up in the batcave.

He presents the possible case of ‘ _Man found frozen to death in his room at the Bluebird Inn’_ , a quaint bed and breakfast in… Vermont, _really?_ But Sam agrees, hesitantly but he agrees nevertheless because frozen corpse could mean a number of things. And it's June, so there's that. Mysterious frozen people was never _not_ something in their wheelhouse and so Dean may have actually found something worthwhile. 

It's a day's drive which means they'll split it up in two, stopping off halfway in Ohio for the night. Dean's excited as he packs his duffel, taking a second glance at his robe and slippers, but decides to leave them behind. Something to look forward to when they return, he thinks. He likes to give himself reasons to want to come back and stay here. It's not like having his own room, a functional kick ass shower, a kitchen that would have made his mother swoon, a wealth of knowledge at their fingertips, and being practically invisible to anything otherworldly isn't enough. He often scares himself because of the fact that his life  _was_ on the road, he'd find excuses to always remain… on the road. That means, no residence, no personal spaces, and no attachments.

Since living in the bunker, he and Sam have had plenty of time away with cases left and right, and then the mark of Cain happened and well, the rest is a blur, really. He spent an entire summer with Crowley whilst being a demon, and then case after case after being cured. The effects of the mark made it almost impossible to not want to kill something, so finding a distraction was easy. Flop case or not, they were out on the road for most of the year and Dean was thankful for it.

And now the bunker, his only home, has this taint. This dark and haunting event that took place in it. He loves the place but being a shut in, and having to see that library, remembering the books and all his personal items in a pile, ready to be burned. The dead bodies of the Stynes, that kid… fuck. Of course this is also the very same place he puts his hands on Cas. So yeah, he's happy to be behind the wheel right now.

Sam is in his usual place in the passenger seat and Cas is sprawled out in the backseat, his head resting against the window, while reading some dusty old book from the bunker.

"Whatcha reading, Cas?" Dean asks, peering at him through the rear-view.

He sees Cas look up at him in the mirror. "Wuthering Heights."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Going for the classics now, huh?"

"It's a pretty good book," Sam says.

Dean shoots a look at Sam because of course he's read that.

"Well, before Metatron gave me all the pop culture knowledge he had, he said something about me never opening up a book and he was right, though I hate to say it. All of my reading material was either research or biblical and well, after he zapped me with a plethora of information, I figured, why not. There are some really good stories out there."

"And he missed this one?" Sam asks, turning his head.

"Apparently so," he says before returning to his book.

Dean smiles, because Cas getting into their literature that's non demony, non angely is pretty awesome. He's been with them in the bunker for weeks, being introduced to many human distractions, and he seems to be enjoying it a lot. With watching every season of the X-files to learning how to make simple meals in the kitchen, Castiel seemed to be loving his new home and Dean has a nice warm feeling in his heart at that fact.

Cas has been kind of a fish out of water for a long time and while it's obvious he'd been trying to find himself, his purpose, helping Heaven here and there, only for them to prove to him that he wasn't really welcomed there. Then running to Claire when she needed help, even while she protested. It's kind of beautiful seeing Cas finally finding a home, even though his home had always been with him… and Sam. Whether it's riding around in the Impala, or being at the bunker, Cas belongs with them. Always has. Always will.

He glances again at him, watching his lips move as he reads the pages, his eyebrows furrowing, most likely at a part he doesn't quite understand. Because knowledge zap or not, there are still a number of things Cas is clueless about and that's okay, Dean is ready to be there to explain if need be. It's the little things he asks that tickle Dean. The questions they all had at one time or another but it's the first time for Cas. " _Why doesn't anyone recognize Superman when he's dressed as Clark Kent?"_ Ah, good question, Cas.

And then it makes him think about it too much because really, it made no logical sense.

* * *

 

Ten more hours to go and he's already contemplating where to stop for lunch. They've done this route so many times, it's almost like their second home. The 36 from Lebanon to Ohio, passing through Kansas City first, and Dean's stomach flips. They're about an hour outside of that place and what if there's something there, like some opening or portal? What if _that_ Cas has been trying to reach him on purpose? What if…

But he's not going to go there on the off chance that any of that is true. There are actual real problems they’re dealing with and his dream stuff can go on the back burner where it belongs. For now, at least. He was dreamless for one night, sort of, and that's always a good sign. Maybe it won't ever come back, maybe it was just some fluke his brain was doing and it's over.

As he passes the exit, he focuses on the sign, almost zoning out but then shakes it off and keeps driving. He can feel the pull, though he has no idea why, since it's 2015, and no apocalypse, Lucifer is in the cage, and Cas is in the backseat, not in the middle of some orgy and definitely not dead.

Why, after all these years was this back on his mind? Although, it hadn't really left, and he's aware that some nights he'd look at his brother and remember that speech he gave him when he was Lucifer. The words repeating in his head, " _Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up… here"_

They changed shit, right? Ended that possibility? It never happened.

Now they have the Darkness to look forward to, whatever the hell that means. Until it makes its move, they have people to save. Jobs to do. And the most important task at hand is finding a way to help Cas, because he'll be damned if they don't get to the bottom of what's happening to him.

It's not like he hasn't seen Cas lose his mojo, before. Aside from him being human that time, he's seen it during that same year the Lucifer and Michael crap went down. Little by little, Cas was being drained and by the end, he was completely powerless. Yet he was still able to save the world, buying them time by throwing a goddamned molotov cocktail at his brother.

He's chuckling now, thinking of him, "Hey Assbutt" and really, Cas tries so damn hard to help and seeing that hippy guru Cas now, he gets why he stuck around Dean for all those years. It’s just who he was, who he is. When Cas says he'll stand by him until the end, he means every damn word of it, and there are very few people that Dean would expect no less from.

They hit a small town near Springfield, Illinois for something to eat. Dean pulls into a burger joint and as soon as they exit the car, the smell of meat on the grill makes his stomach growl. Inside, they're shown to a table and suddenly Dean feels a little fancy, as this was supposed just be a regular, run of the mill eatery. Families are dining there, couples, there are candles on the table, a salad bar in the middle of the place, and 60s rock and roll playing. Not bad, but it better not be that expensive.

The waiter drops off their menus, giving the boys a once over, and yeah, Dean knows that look. When his eyes land on Cas, his eyebrows raise.

"Can I get you all something to drink while you decide on what to order?" The dude says, staring straight at Cas, who just took his place next to Dean at their booth table. Dean nudges him with his foot and Cas looks up at him.

"Oh uh..." He turns to the waiter, who now actually has fucking heart eyes for Cas. "I'll have a beer."

The waiter grins. "Sure, ale, blonde, dark, pale, lager…"

"Uh..." Cas looks nervously at Dean, unsure what to do and it makes Dean laugh.

"He'll have a Heineken. Actually make that two," Dean tells the waiter.

"I'll have a water, thanks," Sam adds.

The waiter nods, a tiny look of disappointment on his face, and turns from them, heading back into the thick of the restaurant, disappearing somewhere beyond the salad bar.

"Aw, he got cock blocked," Sam says, chuckling.

"What? Shut up," Dean snaps.

Cas tilts his head. "I'm confused, what do you mean? The waiter?"

"He was obviously checking you out but when Dean ordered for you, it looked like… like he's your significant other."

Dean's face turns a bright red and he knows this because he can see his stupid reflection in the mirror next to them. "That's not why I did that, dick."

Sam laughs and Cas is looking at both of them, still confused. "So, it's customary to order for your significant other?"

Sam nods. "Yes."

"Okay, can we drop it? I just ordered him a beer, so calm down."

"And when you said he was checking me out, you mean… wanting to have sex with me?"

Dean almost chokes on his own saliva and he can't help but laugh now.

Sam is grinning as he says, "I think he was, Cas, yeah."

"Oh, I see."

Cas turns to Dean, giving him a nervous expression which kind of reminds him of the time he took him to the brothel. Poor Cas. He has no idea what to do when someone's interested in him. It's fucking adorable.

If he ever knew that in another world, he not only knows exactly what to do, he made very good on holding them to it, day in and day out, in group sex parties held in his cabin. How does one go from here to there anyway?

"Don't sweat it, Cas. If you're interested, I can explain to him that we're not a couple, you know, in case that's what he thinks," Dean says, now wishing he hadn't. But hey, he's _not_ Cas' boyfriend and if Cas wants to bang a waiter from some joint in a town they'll probably never see again then who is he to stop him.

Just as those thoughts start to stir things up in Dean that he'd rather not deal with, the waiter's back, placing their drinks down. Cas, now even more squirmy and nervous, smiles awkwardly at the dude (and the whole thing is pretty damn hilarious) but Dean almost jumps out of his seat when Cas thanks the waiter for his beer and then places his hand on Dean's, squeezing it.

"My _boyfriend_ and I love this beer," Cas says with a side smile and the waiter just nods and walks away, defeated... and _holy shit what the hell was that?_

Dean turns to Sam and he's cracking up now, looking down at Dean and Cas' hands that are still locked together.

"I wasn't interested in him, Dean," Cas says with a grin and Dean thinks, _thank fucking god_ , and has no idea why. (Yes he does). “So I made sure his assumption was right. About us.”

 _Am I dreaming?_ Dean begins to pinch his thigh, just in case. Nope, he’s awake. Not dreaming.

The food comes shortly after and during the entire meal, Dean thinks about Cas holding his hand, and he knows it's stupid and adolescent to be giddy over something like that, but it felt really good. He can still feel the tingling on his skin from where Cas' hand was.

It's always these small things, these tiny displays of affection that Dean has to hold onto. He knows they're not going to get into it like he did with Hippy Cas in the dream. He's aware Cas doesn't feel that way about him, even if he suspects that Dean thinks about it. Too much.

He doubts Cas has any idea, just as he had no clue that waiter was checking him out. If Cas isn't looking for it, he isn't aware of it, and Dean's okay with that. He honestly would have no clue what Cas would do if he knew Dean thought about him sometimes, wondering how soft his lips were, or how his skin felt under that suit, or that having him this close sometimes causes Dean to lose track of his thoughts, only to become a bumbling idiot who rambles on about absolutely nothing.

Or how he falls apart every time Cas is gone, or lost, and how easy it is for that angel to break his damn heart, and he has no idea why (yes he does) but saying it, even in his mind makes it too real and he's just not ready. So he'll keep doing what he does best, repress the shit and out it and focus on saving as many people as he can, until some other big bad, most likely the Darkness, decides to bite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Next chapter should be up by next weekend. Feb 19/20/21


	3. Chapter 3

"So what's on the menu tonight?"

Cas strolls over to the couch and lifts the cover off of a platter and reveals his latest culinary present for Dean.

"Is that-"

"Bacon cheeseburger, seasoned fries, and a chocolate milkshake."

Dean laughs as he joins Cas. He never knew the end of the world could taste so good. He's also very aware that there's no way in hell Cas, _this Cas_ , would even have a blender to make the shakes, or a deep fryer…

But it's delicious and Dean finishes every last bite, sits back on the sofa with his shake, smiling at Cas, who is sweeping the bangs from his eyes. "I'm so glad you're pleased."

"I can be more pleased if we finish what we were doing," Dean says as he motions to the bed.

Cas laughs, that same gritty, hearty laugh Dean remembers from when he visited this place six years ago, sent here to see a glimpse of what life would be like if he said 'No' to Michael.

"I'll never get tired of that."

Cas stops laughing and looks at Dean, still wearing a huge grin. "What?"

"Your laugh. You're adorable."

Dean does appreciate the fact that he can say whatever the hell he wants in his dreams without feeling like a complete idiot or without being shot down, because let's face it, if he said this to his own Cas, he would probably give Dean a long lesson in 'Why it's not good to have feelings for friends or fellow soldiers', and all that blah blah. Not that they've ever had that conversation before, but he’s betting that's exactly how it would go down.

"You make me smile." Cas is tilting his head and looking at Dean with the most warm expression on his face, Dean's stomach flips about a hundred times.

"Aw, shucks," Dean says, playfully.

He loves this. These dreams are so much better than they used to be. Cas cooking for him, laughing with him, giving him that look that Dean has to admit that he rarely sees in _his_ Cas. Does he not pay enough attention? Does Cas hide behind a mask, holding in his emotions like an angel’s supposed to do?

He remembers Cas nearly being brought to tears, Cas worried and afraid, flattered, shy, touched. He knows Cas has the ability to feel all of these things yet he rarely shows it. If only he could get him to…

He focuses on the Cas that's in front of him and fights back the urge to ask him why these dreams are occurring, _recurring_ , because he really doesn't want to fuck this up. He's relaxed, happy, now puffing on a joint and sure, Dean will take a hit or two, why not. It's not like he's _really_ getting high. Or drinking this milkshake, or putting his hand on Cas' knee, squeezing it, waiting for his reaction.

After Cas hands him the joint, he moves to straddle Dean, taking the joint back. After a few more drags, he sets it down in an ashtray that seems to suddenly appear next to them on a side table Dean never noticed before.

Cas' hands cup Dean's face as he kisses him, and then begins to tangle his fingers in his hair. His head drops to Dean's shoulder and the kisses continue, soft delicate pecks on his neck, moving behind his ear then to his jawline sending shockwaves through him, making his stomach burn with excitement.

Dean grabs Cas' hips and moves his pelvis against his hard on and it makes Cas inhale sharply, causing his passion to intensify.

He feels his warm tongue against his skin, small nibbles on his neck above his pulse and _fuck_ , it's such a good feeling, he begins to see stars. Cas is moving a little faster now, grinding down on him, cocks pressing together and Dean wants him out of his clothes, _yesterday_. He pulls Cas' shirt off as he raises his arms, taking a pause from Dean's neck, and brings his head back down, giving Dean’s lips attention again.

Cas is so warm, so soft. Dean’s hands caress his back, his waist, then up to his shoulders, his arms. How the fuck has Dean managed to not make advances towards him all these years? How has he been able to contain himself, because _damn_ , Cas is so fucking hot. And it's not only his vessel, but everything that makes up Cas. His personality, the awkwardness, his grace that he still feels in his own soul, even when Cas is powerless. That's what Dean's drawn to. Those are things that makes Dean go out of his damn mind every time they're together.

Their eyes meet and already Dean's missing those lips. Cas reaches for Dean's shirt and helps him out of it and then slides down between his legs, removing Dean's pants, his as well. Taking his place back on Dean's lap, he showers him with more kisses as he moves his hips, grinding his against Dean. Dean's not sure he's going to last, he's too close to coming all over them, and then Cas pulls back, searching his eyes.

"You've never been inside another man. Right?"

Dean's heart speeds up because no, he hasn't, and neither has any guy had the privilege to be inside of him. He's always been strictly blow jobs and hand jobs, and nothing beyond that. Not that he hasn't thought about it, wanted it, because hell yeah he has, does, but it's just never happened.

"Do you want to…"

"Yeah. Fuck yeah," Dean says, smiling.

Cas reaches behind him, twisting his body, and grabs a bottle of… _lube?_ "Give me your hand."

Dean obeys. Cas squirts some of the cool liquid in his palm and smiles. "Get me ready, Dean."

 _Get him ready? Oh yeah, okay._ He reaches behind Cas, fingers finding his ass and then he spreads the lube, using two fingers around the opening, one sliding inside Cas with ease. He's so tight, so warm, and the sounds of his moans is intoxicating, making Dean's head swim.

He watches his eyes close and his lips, parting so slightly as tiny little moans and gasps escape while Dean fingers him, now adding another finger. He's so beautiful, so raw, so… _real._ This in no way seems like a dream anymore when he feels Cas' muscles tighten then release around his fingers, and his breath is warm and moist against his cheek. This isn't a dream, although it is, but…

"I want you inside me, Dean," Cas whispers, all breath and so damn seductive, Dean's actually shaking as he lifts Cas a little to get in a more accessible position. He's moving his hips to allow himself to slip behind Cas, sliding in between his ass.

Dean's heart is beating so strongly that he can feel his pulse throbbing in his neck. He has never wanted anything more than to be this close with Cas, and not just the sex, although, yeah the sex, but to just be able to be this real, this naked, emotionally and physically with him. Without fears of " _taking things to a new level",_ or being awkward about acting on the feelings Dean's been so crappy at concealing all these years.

He wants to be able to reach over the dinner table and kiss him, and hold his hand while they drive together, to lie in each other's arms while they watch movies on the couch. To be able to tell him how cute he looks when he smiles, and for him to wrap his arms around him, promising him to never let him go.

He does want it all and he's not ashamed of that fact. He's just a damn coward. A coward that would rather keep his feelings buried deep inside, risking Cas looking at him like he's an idiot, than to actually come clean and maybe, just maybe something good would come out of it. He's starting to understand why these dreams took such a sudden turn.

Dean took control. He was tired of seeing Cas bleeding out in his arms. He didn't understand it and so he changed it. Now, Cas is alive, sitting on his lap, ready to make love, and if the message isn't clear by now, Dean is a true dumbass.

There's obviously more to it all, he knows that, but what he's gotten so far from the nightmares - turned sexual goddamned fantasies, is that Cas is a part of it. He'll figure it all out eventually but right now, right here, his only mission is to be inside Cas and watch him come apart.

"You're so hot, Cas," Dean whispers as he feels his tightness on his tip. He's preparing himself - still shaking - to enter him as he hears this annoying sound. Cas snaps his head to the left and his brow furrows. Dean's looking around for what in the hell it could be because it sounds like a goddamned…

 _Alarm._ Dean opens his eyes.

He reaches over to his phone next to the nightstand and runs his finger across the screen to shut off that fucking annoying thing that he forgot he had set last night. Lifting his head, he sees Sam turn in his bed, and he looks to the other bed where Cas is now sitting up (Because Cas is actually sleeping now, and it's kind of freaking him out).

He fell asleep in the car on the way to the motel and it reminded Dean of 2010 and fuck all their lives if history isn't really starting to repeat itself. With seeing Hippy Guru Cas, to _his_ Cas having his mojo draining, it's all a little too coincidental and by coincidence, he means, symbolic.

He hops out of bed to head for the shower, because he's not waiting for Sam to call dibs. He has a hard on that feels like it's about to explode and if he doesn't take care of it, there will be hell to pay. He smiles, shyly at Cas before he closes the door and starts the shower.

The water rains down on him as he lathers the soap, immediately giving his erection the much needed attention that its craving. He strokes himself, bringing his mind back to that couch, Cas on his lap and _fuck_ , he's stroking faster now. Harder, faster, as he thinks about pushing the head of his cock into Cas, and dammit it all to hell, Cas was actually going to let him inside… well Dream Cas, but still. He imagines how tight and warm he'd be, those muscles squeezing his shaft as Dean pumps him. He's so slick, and wet, and perfect. He wants Cas' lips back on his neck, over his pulse, so he can feel his heart skip a beat when he comes inside of him.

 _Yeah, oh yeah,_ Dean's coming so hard now, his juices squirting against the tile. He has to rest a hand against the shower wall before his knees give out.

Catching his breath, he finishes his shower, removing all evidence of his jerk off session. No need to make his brother or Cas have to witness his shenanigans. Assuming Cas needs a shower, he has no idea what drained angels do for hygiene.

When he steps out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, he notices Cas looking at him and not his usual way where he's squinting his eyes, bewildered. This is a different kind of look. A shy one? Dean can't tell due to the low light in the room because it's the ass-crack of dawn and the sun is barely up.

They still have six more hours until they reach Vermont and it was Sam's bright idea to hit the road by 6 a.m. and he really needs to have a discussion with him about that because whatever the hell is happening at that bed and breakfast, it sure as hell doesn't matter what time they arrive there.

"I'll get us coffee," Dean offers as he rummages through his duffel for clean clothes. He doesn't even think twice about letting his towel fall as he pulls on his underwear and as he's about to reach for his socks, his eyes lift and land on Cas, who is still watching him.

"Yes?" Dean just got naked in front of Cas and he's acting like he's the most calm mother fucker on the planet. He has this shit down.

"Nothing." Cas averts his eyes and focuses on … the wall? Okay, must be a really interesting wall.

"I'll be back."

Dean leaves, heading to the lobby for their usual 'on the road caffeine fix' when he sees that dream again, and he really needs this to stop occupying his mind because he sure as hell can't walk around with a hard on all day like he's eighteen years old.

His eyes linger to the little breakfast arrangement the staff put together and he grabs a few bagels, shoving one in his mouth while sneaking more into his pockets. He turns quickly, noticing the concierge eyeing him strangely so he grins, bagel still in mouth (it's a talent), and when he's done filling his pockets, he snatches it from his lips.

"Road grub," he says and flashes her a wide, charming grin.

He looks down at the Styrofoam cups and takes two out and pauses, wondering if Cas would want some coffee too. He _is_ eating and, yeah why the hell not. So he makes them all a cup and carries them, two in one hand, one in the other, because… _talent_ and kicks the motel door instead of knocking.

Sam opens it, hair wet, but he's already dressed. _Damn that was quick._ He grabs one of the coffees and settles at the table while Dean hands the other cup to Cas, who smiles at him.

"Thank you, Dean."

"Sure thing. I also have bagels in my pockets, in case you guys are hungry."

Cas gives him a wide-eyed expression so Dean reaches in and hands him one. "I think it's cream cheese," he tells him, watching Cas turn it over, inspecting it like he's in a lab.

He ends up staring Cas and that damn bagel, acting as if he just discovered the Ark of the goddamned Covenant. He smiles as he chews and makes some very, _very_ inappropriate groans that really should be x-rated.

"Would you two like a room?" Dean jokes, eyeing the bagel in Cas' hand.

"This is delicious. The tenderness of the dough, the flavor of the," he holds it out to study it, "dried onions, with the cream cheese that's… what is it?"

"Chives," Dean says, chuckling.

"Chives," Cas repeats. "Very delicious combination."

"Glad I can be of service." Dean grins, glancing briefly at Sam who’s watching them with a surprised expression.

"Come on, let's hit it," Sam says, grabbing his leather bag and heading for the door.

Dean moves out of the way to allow Cas to go ahead of him and then he throws the strap of his duffel over his shoulder. After dropping off the key, Dean takes his place in the driver's seat and drives out of the motel parking lot, heading towards the freeway.

The drive is quiet for the first few hours aside from Dean playing his Zeppelin tapes. He starts to sing along to _Whole Lotta Love_  and peeks quickly in the rear-view to see what Cas is up to. He's sprawled out again, back to his book. _How does he not get road sick from that?_ He turns to Sam, who is on his laptop for what he assumes is more Metatron searches.

"Any luck?" Dean asks him.

"Nothing. It's like, how to narrow it down? He can be anywhere."

"This is true." He glances again at Cas through the mirror and he's now looking ahead instead of down at his book, and his eyebrows are doing that intense narrowing thing. "Everything okay back there?"

Cas turns to Dean, looking at the back of his head. "Yes. I-I think I have to urinate."

Sam and Dean both frown and say, "Really?"

"Yes. Please, can we…"

"Yeah, yeah sure, no problem."

Dean finds an exit and turns off to a safe area to park. He's glad of the thick woods for Cas to do his business in because he's not finding an actual bathroom, not for peeing.

Cas gets out and heads to a tree, looking back at Dean who's gesturing for him to go. Dean's eyes move immediately to Cas' hands that are now undoing the zipper of his suit pants, and okay, he has to look away, because even _he_ knows how uncool that is.

Road side pee breaks, it's as American as apple pie. It's different being in a car full of dudes because really, they can go anywhere. He guesses girls can too, but they're usually way more civilized about the whole thing.

Then there's Cas, and this time, Dean's not going to send him away when he's trying to adjust to the human side of himself. He's going to be there for him every step of the way.

He jumps when Cas opens the rear door and climbs back in. They're back on the freeway in less than five minutes and he's about to turn on the radio when Sam reaches his hand out to stop him.

"Cas, is this like last time? With your grace?" Sam asks. Dean feels his a chill down his spine.

Cas pokes his head in between them, leaning his body against the front seats. Dean turns his head, realizing his lips are actually really close to his ear. He snaps his head back, startled and a little shaken and yes, sweat is now beading on his forehead.

"I'm not sure. I don't think so. Although, with everything I've done, I can only imagine I'm being cut off again. From Heaven."

"But you think Metatron did something too?" Sam narrows his gaze as Dean tries to pay attention while keeping his focus on the road.

"Yes. My wings…"

"Are you gonna be… like mortal soon?"

Dean remembers Hippy Cas' words in the jeep that night on their way for a face off with Lucifer, that when the angels left, his powers just drained. So while he was still technically an angel, he was also human, and how did that work again?

"No. Yes. Maybe? I have no idea. I don't feel completely powerless like last time, but these human things, _needs_...” Dean and Cas make eye contact and Dean’s face ignites. Cas also looks a little flushed and it makes Dean curious as to why.

“...are becoming more pronounced. I am certainly not all human either like when-when the angels fell, when I-"

"Right, okay. So you're still keeping your title, just the powers are lessening. Your battery is draining, but not dying, right?"

"Yes, I believe that is the best explanation."

Dean sighs. Okay, that sort of makes sense. It's like, eventually his battery will be recharged and Cas will be… Cas again. Until then, they just have to wait and see what happens and pray to God, or whoever the fuck is listening, that they find Metatron.

He grips the steering wheel, a feeling of anger building. Mark or no mark, that rage he feels whenever he thinks of that dick is almost hard to control. He thinks of everything, since day one of finding him holed up in that room, surrounded by tons of books that he claimed were 'tiny little universes', and how he's played them since. _That fucker._

Tricking Cas, and man, he was so trusting, so willing to fix things, only to be betrayed and dumped on the side of the damn road. Alone, confused, and powerless. Dean's guilt for making Cas handle his own shit back then still eats at him, knowing everything that had taken place, leading to Kevin's death… that year was a goddamned mess.

Metatron, the Scribe of God, is going to end up dead one of these days and Dean really, _really_ hopes it's by his hand.

They make a few more stops for gas and bathroom breaks (that would _not_ be okay to handle by the side of the road) before finally reaching Vermont. The Bluebird Inn is located in a quiet little area with narrow streets, a small main road lined with antique shops, ice cream parlors, and gift shops. He spots a pizza place on the way to the B &B and makes a mental note on what's for dinner.

The wood door chimes as they enter and a pleasant, chubby man behind the desk is smiling wide for them. Sam does his thing about getting the rooms, while Cas and Dean look around the lobby for hex bags or anything that might look 'abnormal'. Aside from the utter quaintness of it, nothing seems weird. He glances up at Cas, who's shaking his head, obviously not finding anything ominous either.

Sam leads the way to the rooms and what Dean really should say is 'room' because that was all they had left, and who knew June was a hot tourist month for Vermont? Upon entering the room, Dean does a double take. Two beds. One single, one queen. Really? Before Dean insists on asking the guy downstairs for a redo, Sam holds his hand up.

"You know I need to sleep alone, you and Cas can take the queen."

 _Right... and what?_ "Excuse me? Why can't _you_ and Cas take the queen?"

Sam throws his leather bag onto the single bed and plops down on it. "Because, you know how cramped it will be with me and someone else in that thing? You guys are practically the same size, so it just makes more sense."

Cas sits on the edge of the bigger bed and bounces on it, testing the durability and  _really Cas?_ This is just getting more weird by the minute. "It will be fine, Dean. I sleep rather still, I think."

Dean laughs between his gritted teeth and tosses his duffel onto the chair next to the bed. "Fine, but I get the left side."

"Sure," Cas says, smiling.

He glances briefly at Sam who's laughing at himself. _Fuck you, Sam._ He's doing this on purpose and he will definitely have a talk with him at some point. Sam's always been trying to push them together, for years. He knows how Dean feels but they've never, not once, talked about it. Dean can't even imagine how that conversation would go, anyway.

" _So Dean, you're in love with Cas?"_

" _Yeah, so."_

" _And when are you going to make your move?"_

" _I don't know, never?"_

_Insert Sam lecturing Dean about holding in feelings, and how important it is to tell people how you feel about them because you never know, life's too short, and all that._

Dean's now giggling and he notices Cas and Sam eyeing him, curiously, so he coughs nervously to shut himself up and says, "So, pizza?"

"Yeah, how about _I_ get that, you and Cas check the floors, see if there's an attic, basement, a place where someone might be performing any kind of blood magic or hoodoo."

"Right." Dean pulls out his emf detector. "And spirit activity."

While Sam's gone, he and Cas do the usual sweeps for anything paranormal and the detector does not go off once. They don't find any hex bags, or weird altars, or anything indicating that this was magic of some kind. Although it has to be, right? A dude frozen solid in the middle of June isn't exactly an everyday occurrence.

Their appointment with the coroner is for tomorrow, as he refused to see them tonight, and who can blame him? It's pretty late on a Sunday in a small town, it's probably not often he'd have to get out of bed to talk to the FBI.

After getting bubkes, he and Cas head back to the room and wait for Sam to bring back some nice warm, cheesy pizza and hopefully some cold beer. He better have not forgotten the pepperoni which seems to be a ongoing issue with Sam. He has to always remind him, "If you don't like it, get your own damn pizza"

"So, how are you Dean."

Dean takes out his deodorant, toothbrush, and toothpaste and carries them to the bathroom.

"Good, you?" he says to Cas from inside the bathroom, his voice echoing.

He looks around the small space and inhales, recognizing a scent but he can't quite place it. It's so familiar but where has he smelled that before?

"It's sandalwood," Cas says from the door and startles Dean so badly, he actually jumps. How does Cas do that? It's like he's doing that poofing thing even without his wings working.

"Smells good," Dean says, shaking his head as he places his things on the counter near the sink.

 _Sandalwood_. This's what he smelled in Cas' cabin that day and he now recognizes it from his dreams as well. Must have been the incense or something he was wearing.

"Yes, I quite like it too. It's very earthy. Many rituals were performed with sandalwood oil, as it had been commonly known for its aphrodisiac qualities. Mostly for spells to enhance sexual experiences or to promote good male performance while engaging in-"

"Wow, who knew" Dean cuts him off, refusing to hear more about it because yeah, Hippy Cas had that all arranged nicely in his little love den. And fuck his life if he has to smell an aphrodisiac oil while he's in this place, sharing a bed with the one person he'd give anything to test that theory with.

Changing the subject. "So, you think we should pick you up some of these?" Dean says as he lays his toothbrush down on the counter.

"Yes, I had some difficulty with oral hygiene at first when I was human. I thought the toothpaste went in my mouth first and then the toothbrush."

Dean guffaws imaging that and he's also struck with his heart breaking. _Dammit_.

"Dude, I'm so sorry you had to… I wish I could have-"

"Dean, it's okay. Really. Things were difficult for the both of us back then."

Dean meets his eyes and there goes his train of thought. Cas and his burning stare. He thinks, no wait, _he knows_ that Cas' angelic essence, angel or human, resides somewhere behind those eyes. Like his soul, his very being and Dean sees it all the damn time. He also _didn’t_ see it that time they were with Jimmy, when Cas was cast out of his vessel. It was like they were two completely different people.

He smiles as he heads for the door and Cas isn't doing anything to get out of his way so he stops and looks at him, their faces really close now. "Can I go?"

When Cas realizes he's blocking Dean from leaving, he steps out of the way, lowering his head like he's bowing or some shit. _Don't do that, Cas, I'm no one to bow to._

"My apologies," he says, following Dean to the middle of the room.

Sitting at the table, Dean looks up at Cas who's joining him and he smiles, wondering if he's ever seen him eat pizza. Random but still, he can't wait to see his reaction, knowing how that bagel had him in some sort of euphoric state and if that's how he looks experiencing certain food for the first time, imagine how he'll look when he experiences _him_ … and what?

"Dean, uh…" Cas is nervous, his hands lacing in front of him. _Shit, what's this all about_ , Dean wonders.

"Hm?" He says with a crack in his voice because no he's not worried at all about what Cas might possibly want to talk about seeing as he also looks like he's about to puke.

"You said… last night-"

The door opens, abruptly and Sam enters, holding two boxes of pizza and a bag dangling from his wrist that looks like it contains a six pack. Dean bounces to his feet, glancing at Cas, briefly, and helps Sam carry it all over to the table. The mood is a little thick and Dean's pretty sure it has everything to do with what Cas wants to talk to him about.

 _Peachy_.

But life gets better when Castiel takes his first bite of a slice of pepperoni and there with it comes the groaning, and moaning, and Dean hands him a beer and laughs.

"You want me to pick you up a pack of smokes?" Dean jokes.

"Why haven't you guys ever given me pizza?" Castiel asks, taking another bite and Dean almost loses it when his eyes roll to the back of his head.

"Uh, you've had plenty of opportunities, it's not my fault you never wanted it," Dean reminds him and is suddenly aware of the double meaning there.

"My bad," Cas says and that causes both brothers to crack up.

Cas has picked up a few terms from Claire, that being one of them. It's endearing to hear Cas use phrases they have all used over the years. He's gotten so used to Cas quoting either Sam or him, that he forgets that he used to be this dorky awkward angel that spoke really weird, and half the time Dean had no idea what in the hell he was talking about.

Now he uses phrases like 'bite me', 'suck it', and 'my bad'. Cas is growing. Dean's having a great time witnessing it.

It's midnight by the time they're finished eating and Sam's already hinting that he wants to sleep, which means no TV time for Dean. God forbid the sound should keep his little brother up. So he starts his normal pre-bed ritual of brushing his teeth, gargling, taking off his jeans and shirt because he's gotten so used to this habit from living in the bunker, he can't sleep any other way now.

And it should be interesting now that he's sharing his bed with Cas…

Cas watches him and soon does the same, removing his button down shirt (his tie first and Dean almost chokes because why is that so sexual?), and as he unbuttons his pants, Dean holds out his hand, stopping him.

"Wait, you don't go commando, do you?"

But before Cas could even possibly understand what that means, his pants are off and Dean sighs with relief (or disappointment? Could be either) when he sees the striped boxer shorts. He's shaking his head when he crawls into bed, lying on his back. When Cas climbs in after him, also deciding to lie on his back, they realize just how small the bed actually is.

Skin. That's all he feels as Cas slides in next to him. Cas legs against his, his arm touching his, all warm and soft and yeah, this is going to be a rough night.

He glances at Cas as he moves his arms above the blanket and laces his fingers in front of him. He's staring at the ceiling, saying something but he’s so quiet. He kind of looks like he's-

"I'm praying," Cas whispers, answering Dean as if he's reading his damn mind.

"To?"

"God."

Dean rolls over on his side giving Cas his full attention because this just got interesting. "You mean the same dick who abandoned you, me, and the rest of the universe? _That_ God?" he whispers back.

Cas moves his lips for a few more seconds and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath and turns on his side as well, facing Dean. He was _so not_ expecting that and now their faces are so close, it's like they're sharing the same air to breath.

Personal space? Nah, not when you can lie platonically in bed together. Warm skin touching, lips so close that if Dean did so much as breathe too deeply, they'd be kissing.

"He's defeated the Darkness before. We will need him again."

"And what makes you think he's listening now after all the shit he pulled?"

Dean watches Cas put his hand under the pillow to support his head and his expression is soft, non threatening, calm. Dean likes this part of Cas, when he can just relax because it doesn't happen often enough. Even while they've been chilling out at the bunker, when he’s not binging on some show, he's usually deep in research, stressed about finding answers, he rarely takes a break to just… be. Like now.

"Faith?"

"Is that a question? Why faith? Why now?" Dean asks.

"Not so much in _him,_ " Castiel sighs, and continues in a low breathy tone. "But more so in hopes that we will find a way to beat this and we will be offered the means to do it. If it's God, then good. If not, we will find some other way."

"Look at you," Dean smiles, mimicking him with the whole hand under the pillow thing because really, he has no idea where to put his arm anyway, unless it's over Cas' body which is a definite no. "All faithy again. It's a good look on you."

Dean smiles, loving this conversation in way but even more so that their faces are so close, each time Castiel whispers he feels his breath on his face and smells the pizza with a hint of mint from the toothpaste (because Sam was nice enough to get him a toothbrush while he was out.). It's intimate and it gives him an idea of what Cas would taste like if they kissed right now.

Castiel narrows his gaze. "How about you?"

Dean studies Cas' lips as he talks and… _what?_ "Huh?"

"Do you have faith again?"

"I never really did."

Castiel shakes his head. "You did in me, once."

 _Once? Try like always_. "Cas-"

"Do you still?"

"How can-how can you even ask that? Of course I do. Where's this coming from?"

"I've done some horrible things, Dean."

That's Cas, right there. He thinks he's the only one whose sins are unforgivable. He thinks that his crimes are far worse than anyone else's, therefore he doesn't deserve redemption and he's so damn wrong.

"And I haven't?"

"I opened Purgatory"

Dean rolls his eyes. Pissing match, got it. Let's see who has fucked up more. "I tricked Sam into saying yes to Gadreel, who, by the way, ended up killing Kevin."

"I killed angels and humans thinking I was God."

Dean smirks, hiding the shiver he gets from thinking of that fucked up time between them. "I sold my soul once and oh yeah, broke the first seal. Remember that?"

This makes Castiel smile andthat's _awesome._ Mission accomplished. "I left with the angel tablet, not trusting you with it."

"I got the mark of Cain." Dean is starting to be amused by this. Their ‘fuck up list’ is really damn long, isn't it?

"I didn't stop you." Cas lowers his eyes.

"Hey, you couldn't have. I was on a roll. A very bad, stupid, idiotic roll."

"Yes, with Crowley…"

Dean swallows, he really does _not_ need to get into that. "I was a demon."

"I helped with the spell to remove the mark."

"I hurt you." And right there, they freeze, breath hitched and almost non existent. Their eyes look away to anywhere but at each other, and when blue meets green again, they're both obviously finding it hard to speak.

"Dean-"

"What? It happened. We haven't talked about it."

He's starting to realize that it's been a mutual effort of avoiding this one topic that will most likely either have them arguing or hugging it out, and he thinks it can go either way at this point.

"You… were under the effects of a very powerful curse. I knew it wasn't all you."

"But it still bothers you. Don't lie to me, Cas."

"I won't lie to you Dean. Not ever again." Castiel closes his eyes. "Yes, it does."

Son of a… of all the times he wished he was wrong… "So, ya wanna talk about it?"

Cas is silent, looking away so Dean reaches out and takes his chin between his thumb and pointer finger and turns Cas to face him. "Cas, talk to me."

"It was a bad time for all of us. I hated seeing you so lost, so… consumed by that awful curse. It hurt, it made me feel like I've failed you in so many ways."

Of course Cas blames himself. He really _is_ learning about life through the Winchester Guide book, isn't he? "You need to stop right now, Cas. It was all me, I did it, I made that choice."

"You were doing what you thought was right. I understand that, but what it ended up becoming… I should have been there for you, closer to you, helped you…"

"Yeah you saw how well I reacted to your help."

"I know, Dean. Anyway, that's all. It was just hard to watch. Hard to accept."

"That's not all, Cas."

"It is."

"Liar."

"Dean-"

"Okay, okay." He's not going to push it because he knows damn well that he hates when someone does that to him.

"When you're ready to talk about it, don't think for a second I don't want to hear it or I can't handle it. I'm here, okay? Don't forget that."

"Of course, Dean. It's just a little new, a little hard right now. You understand?"

"Yeah, Cas. I do."

They share a smile and do that staring thing for a few minutes. He knows how much Dean cares about him. He has to. Dean's not very vocal with these things but he hopes his actions speaks volumes for what he lacks in words.

He's getting lost in watching Cas' eyelids start to droop and his blinking become heavier. He looks peaceful, serene, exactly how Dean wants him. If Dean had his way, he'd do this every night with Cas, just to help him relax. They can just lie in bed, not do anything, just talk and stare at each other and that's okay. This's nice. They can do this.

He needs to look out for him more like he used to. The last couple of years, Dean's been so caught up in his unholy missions, he lost sight of the people that he needs to protect, care for, even if it's just to be an ear to listen to their problems. He's been a shitty brother to Sam, a crappy friend to Cas, and he knows there's a hell of a lot of time to make up for.

But he's going to fix things with them, with the Darkness, with all the stupid decisions he's made recently. Their end isn't to be consumed by some immoral force that swallows creation into some black hole. That just isn't how Dean every pictured going out.

* * *

  
  
  
"Dean, what are you doing here?"

Dean looks around, confused. "What do you mean? Isn't this the part where you show me the awesome meal you prepared for me?" Dean says as he rubs his hands together.

"You have to go."

"Cas, what's going on?"

Cas starts pushing him out the door, a look of utter terror on his face. Dean watches as the wind blows through the windows, moving the curtains and snuffing out the candles.

"He's coming. You can't be here."

"Who?" Dean looks around, immediately going into his defensive stance. He slips his hand in his pocket and curses that he's unarmed. "Cas, where are your weapons?"

"There's no time. Dean, you must leave."

Dean turns his head at the sound of footsteps but he can't see anyone there. When he goes to look back at Cas, he's shaking so badly, Dean has to grab his shoulders to calm him down. "Cas, talk to me."

"It's too late, he's here. Oh no Dean, why didn't you leave?"

"WHO?" Dean shouts, getting angrier by the minute, not knowing who the fuck is scaring Cas like this. And it all happens so fast, Dean's not even sure what he's seeing. There's some kind of bright glare reflecting off of something, it's blinding him, and what the fuck is that? Is it a blade?

_Oh no._

There's someone else with them but it's too chaotic to see. The debris, curtains, smoke, are all bringing his visibility to a whopping zero. The energy in the air feels charged, like… wait he knows this feeling, it's familiar, yet he can't place it. _What the hell…_

He hears a cry, or more like a whelp, and holy shit _no, no, no,_ he searches for Cas and why isn't he right next to him like he was a second ago. He's yanking those stupid curtains away from his face and tries to move inside the cabin. The wind picks up but it's only blowing the smoke in his face, blocking his view.

"Cas!" he shouts. "Where are you?"

"Dean!"

He follows Cas' voice and then he sees it all over again. Cas clutching his stomach, blood... _fuck, he's too late._ He runs to him as Cas collapses, and curses over and over again, every word he knows, and then watches the life drain out of his friend.

"Cas, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry"

Why this dream again? Why now? After all those other really, _really_ good ones? Why this now, again? WHY?

Dean wakes with hand on his shoulder, shaking him. When he opens his eyes, Cas is staring down at him, worried and saying his name. "Dean, wake up."

Dean sighs, and notices his cheeks are moist. He's been crying. Cas reaches out and rubs his thumb under Dean's eye, his touch so tender, so loving. Dean just grabs onto his wrist and pulls him down into a hug. He's clinging to Cas for dear life and he doesn't even care what it looks like or if Sam's watching, 'cause he probably is if Dean was making too much noise in his sleep.

"Your dreams, Dean. What's happening?" Cas says against his shoulder.

"Nothing Cas, just- just, don't go anywhere." He's not even sure why he said that out loud, but whatever, he's feeling really safe right now with Cas in his arms and knowing Cas is alive and in bed with him, well, he can't let go. Not yet. Not yet


	4. Chapter 4

"If ya _ask_ me, it's a part of some kind of weird medical phenomena. Like spontaneous combustion."

Dean and Sam share a look. "Thanks, uh, can we see the body?"

The coroner nods, giving them a once over and leads them to the morgue. "He's thawed now, so not really sure what you boys are hopin' to find."

"We're just following a lead, sir," Sam tells him.

"What lead is that again?"

"Weird medical phenomena. Like spontaneous combustion," Dean says with a smirk and the coroner's eyebrows raise, checking Dean out, most likely trying to decipher if he's kidding or not.

"You the X-files?"

"Something like that," Sam tells him as he waits for him to open the drawer.

The coroner, Doctor Irving, pulls it open and a body of male, late sixties, lies there on the slab, looking completely normal for a dead guy.

"Thanks, we uh, we may be a while." Sam's eyeing him and the body.

"Yeah, holler if ya need anything and uh, for the record, can you put in the report that I suggested the, uh, you know, medical phenomena theory?"

Sam smiles at him, "Sure thing."

They wait for him to leave to start checking the body for signs of hoodoo, curses, markings from the underworld, the usual.

"This is just a dead guy. What are we missing here?" Dean says, stroking his jaw.

"What was that all about last night?" Sam's eyes are focusing on the corpse's hands as he checks under the fingernails.

Dean just stares at him. "We're gonna do this here?"

"Dude, you were yelling in your sleep and then-"

Dean sighs, but his stomach starts doing that flippy thing again where he's feeling like he's on a roller coaster that's about to go off the rails. "I had a bad dream. What? We have them all the time, it's not exactly like we're horror free."

"Dean, you were yelling Cas' name and you woke up crying, and then you fell back asleep holding onto him like he was your personal teddy bear."

He did that? Fuck, he doesn't even remember. Yeah he knows he grabbed hold of him, after seeing him die in his arms in that stupid goddamned nightmare, but he doesn't remember actually falling asleep like that and... fuck his life. 

 _That's_ why he was able to sleep through the night after that. When he woke up this morning, Cas was already out of bed and showered, and he didn't even give it a second thought.

"I don't have control when I'm asleep, Sam. You were the one who said we had to share the bed."

"What happened in the dream, anyway?"

"It's nothing," Dean says, hoping the fact that his attention is now inside the corpse's mouth would deter Sam in asking more fucking questions about something he's really not in the mood to talk about.

"Dean, you seemed pretty messed up, I mean, I've been sleeping in the same room with you all our lives, and-"

"And I have nightmares. I've had them before, I'll have them again. You've seen me waking up screaming, going for my gun, hopping out of bed like the room is on fire,"

_Which by the way happened right after Hell._

"You've seen this many times, Sam. So I'm not sure why you're surprised."

Sam scowls at him.

"It was a bad dream. Yes, Cas was in it. I'm awake now, so can we drop it?"

"Fine," Sam says, defeated.

Dean is unable to move as flashes of the dream fill his head. He knows he's digging himself into a hole because finding out why he's having these dreams would be a good idea, and enrolling his brother and best friend to help him would be the smartest thing to do, but he does the exact opposite and he has no idea why.

Dean watches as Sam flips the corpse's wrist and he notices a small marking on the skin above the bone. They both lean in closer to get a better look.

"Well, that looks odd. He doesn't seem like the tribal tat kinda guy," Dean says.

Sam gets his phone out and takes a picture of it, satisfied that they've probably seen all they can, and they head out, thanking Dr. Irving.

The ride back to the motel consists of them discussing possible theories, Sam already on his laptop searching for information on the design of that tattoo and Dean cursing himself for not telling Sam the truth.

He's not lying, just withholding information that may or may not mean a damn thing anyway. He had recurring nightmares when he came back from Hell, when Cas died in that fucking reservoir, when he came back from Purgatory, and he'll never forget those. Seeing Cas' hand slip from his as the portal closed and damn it all to hell because it was Cas that ended up letting go anyway.

So there it is, these dreams might be just a big steaming pile of nothing.

Nobody's talking to each other during dinner (tacos, thanks Cas) and Dean can't help but be annoyed that the elephant in the room is actually his behavior from last night. Bless their hearts for never taking anything for granted, for looking at every little event as something bigger, and that has to mean _something_.

Can he blame them? He's half convinced it does too and after they've had prophecies, omens, and predictions rammed down their throats all these years, who's he to say that it means jack squat?

But it's also very personal. This is Dean seeing Cas from a different timeline, different universe that probably doesn't even exist anymore. A broken and sad Castiel, former angel of the lord, who followed Dean to his own death, both of theirs, actually, and when he's not watching him die in his arms, he's talking to him, eating the food he's cooked for him, and fooling around with him. How in the hell is he going to explain that to them?

They weren't there when Zachariah had sent him to that place. Well Cas was, but not really _his_ Cas, and he has no idea what Dean saw because Dean never talked fully about it, to him or Sam. It's, what's the word again? Right, _personal_ . He had conversations with his future self, a man who was just as broken and sad as his best friend. _That_ Dean had lost everything, everyone, but Cas. He lost his brother, Bobby, his sanity, his hope and faith.

He was hard, unrelenting, and the worst part was back then, Dean could absolutely see himself becoming that. A cold-hearted son of a bitch, whose mission was to kill Lucifer, who just so happened to be wearing his brother to the prom.

But years passed and he mostly forgot about that place, aside from the fucked up Lucifer speech, or seeing his best friend do or say something that reminded him of the Timothy Leary version of Cas. It happened, it was over, they changed the outcome. Dean stabbed Zach in the face, Sam jumped in the pit, problem solved.

Fuck all their lives, really.

"... and it goes back to the mid 10th century, this guy here, he claimed to hold the powers of the elements, fire, water, et cetera."

Dean shakes his head, bringing his mind back to reality. Right. Case, tattoo, dead frozen - now thawed out - guy. "So, witchcraft?"

"Well, this guy, Asser, he worked for the king of Gwynedd at the time, in Wales. He performed miracles for him, weather related stuff, probably had something to do with crops and all that. He was also the head of the group that protected the citizens from vikings."

"So vikings stuff, cool," Dean says as he takes a bite of his taco.

Sam shakes his head, "He was also over 200 years old when he died. Or so legend says."

"And that can't possibly be an oversight, right?" Dean says, chuckling.

"If he was involved in magic, the light _or_ dark arts, he could have lived for an eternity. Witches, warlocks, they have ways of preserving themselves, and it's not always by the hands of a demon. There's magic, _ancient magic_  that calls upon elementals, and I'm almost certain that's what he did."

They both look at Cas as he just blurts that out, before shoving the rest of his taco in his mouth, eyeing them as if this was common knowledge and why they fuck didn't they know it?

Cas grabs Sam's phone and pulls up the picture of the tattoo and then compares it to something on the screen of the laptop. "It's an alchemist rune. See here, that's the rune for water. It's all very obvious, wouldn't you agree?" He says with a mouth still full.

 _Sure, because they always read about viking-alchemist-elemental- magic lore._ "Okay, so that's all good and all, but why?"

Silence. _Yeah, eat that, Cas._ "This man could have been experimenting, maybe he was trying to call upon the elements and he froze himself by accident."

 _Dammit_. "So he goes out, gets a alchemist rune tat and starts dabbling in viking magic?"

"It's not viking magic, Dean," Cas corrects him.

"I know, but humor me Cas. Why would this dude, who was staying at a B&B, which by the way isn't half bad, would do this?"

"Humans are curious by nature. You've both come across many people in your hunting adventures that have done just that. They read something online or in a book and think they can mimic what people from thousands of years ago could barely master. It's a major flaw in your species, but has also led to many great discoveries, so I guess what it comes down to is-"

"You win some, you lose some?" Sam says with a smile.

Cas nods and smiles back.

"Hunting adventures?" Dean muses, smiling too wide for his own good.

"Are we going to figure out this case or would you like to continue to mock my choice of words?"

"Cas, I'm not mock-"

"Okay," Sam interrupts, "So, dude gets a hold of some book, or whatever and decides to dabble. I'm going to ask the innkeeper for a key to his room, I think they kept it sealed off until the investigation's over."

"Investigation?" Dean asks.

"Us."

"Oh, right, 'cause we're FBI" Dean says, flashing a toothy grin.

* * *

 

Sam's taking his sweet ass time checking out the room, while Dean scrolls through more websites on elemental _whatever_ magic and aside from getting links to World of Warcraft and other online games, he actually finds some useful information. He barely understands a word of it, but he's sure it's on Sam's nerd level of understanding and definitely Cas' as well, who hasn't stopped staring at him all night. Dean feels his eyes burning through him and okay, he'll bite.

"Cas, what's up."

"Did you want to talk about it?"

Dean loves how _'it'_ is self explanatory. "Not really, no."

"Okay." Cas stands and takes off his coat, hangs it on the back of the chair, and heads over to the bed, where he clicks the TV on and swings his legs up, relaxing his back against the headboard.

"It's just…" _He did say 'no', right?_ "...a bad dream. _Dreams._ I was just shaken. That's all."

He joins Cas on the bed, leaving one leg off because if not, they'd be close, like legs and shoulders touching kind of close and Dean needs to be able to breathe tonight.

"And I'm in them."

_Yes, sucking me off, letting me inside you, and the best yet, dying, that sort of thing. No big deal._

"Yeah. But it's nothing."

"Dean, I- what exactly is happening in these dreams. You were very vocal the other night, and last night… uh, you were clearly in a very emotional place."

Dean sighs. _Shit, shit shit. Wait, vocal the other night?_ "What was I saying the other night?"

Cas does that usual side smile that's both shy and mischievous and only Cas can pull off two looks at once like that. "That I was… _so hot'_."

Dean should get up and leave, maybe go sleep outside, or how about a nice walk in front of a moving truck. But despite his fiery hot cheeks, he starts to laugh uncontrollably, because hearing Cas _hear him_ dreaming about _that_ causes some kind of giddiness in him.

It's not so bad, this is Cas. He's known him forever, it seems so who cares that he heard him having the best sex dream he's ever had, that happened to star Cas and Dean.

"I was-"

The door opens and Sam's out of breath. _Really?_ From a room search? He closes the door behind him and kicks off his shoes. Dean looks at Cas and smiles. "We'll pick this up later, I promise."

Cas nods, smiling back at him and they both focus on Sam.

"So get this, I didn't find anything in his room, but then the innkeeper gave me the guy's last known address and the dude lived in the next town over. Like, really close by so I got to thinking, why would he stay in a B&B in just one town over? Like, who does that?"

"Listening…" Dean's eyebrows raise.

"So I went to his house."

"So that's what took you so long. I was starting to wonder if you'd been turned into an ice cube, too."

"Yeah well, check this out, " Sam pulls out a small notebook from his coat pocket and tosses it at Dean. He opens it and sees scribbles, text in _who the hell knows_ language, and some runes, symbols, nothing he really recognizes.

"Oh, that there," Cas leans over, pressing his body close to his and Dean has to hold his breath for a few seconds to calm down his heart rate. "That's the symbol for glass. You can actually make glass from-"

"Okay okay, so the dude was dabbling. But why here? Why in this place when he could have been doing all this at home?"

Dean tries to remain calm despite his loins on fire now, coupled with his stomach full of butterflies. He can feel Cas’ goddamned breath against his neck and it’s going to make him die right here.

"Because…" Sam throws a framed photo of a couple. Dean studies it and recognizes the frozen guy but obviously much more alive and he's with a younger woman, mid thirties maybe.

"Daughter?"

"Wife." Sam corrects him.

"Well, okay pops is into girls half his age, but what does this have to do with anything?"

"Right, so I started thinking, why would he check himself in here when his house is super close and then a light bulb went off. I checked the guest log, and there was one couple that happened to have checked out the night the dude was found frozen. I matched the first name with the name of his wife, she'd been using a different last name, and why?"

"She was here with another guy," Dean concludes, checking out the photo again.

Sam nods.

"So, young hot wife is having an affair, picks a close enough place to bang her lover, and can still make it home in time to put the meatloaf in the oven. But hubby was onto her, came here, tried to do a spell but what, it backfired?" Dean says.

"Possibly, or she was the one who did it. We're assuming it was him but it might have been her. Maybe she's the one into this hoodoo."

"But he checked in, he had a room."

"True. All I know is, we need to interview her. She wasn't home when I searched her house, obviously, so I called her after I left."

"You called her? What'd she say?"

"That, and I quote, 'It's all too much right now. I'll meet you at Suzie's diner for breakfast. I just can't go back to that house,' and so I agreed. We're meeting her there at 9."

"So another night at the B&B. What's the plan?"

Sam and Cas shrug in unison.

"Alright then, I'm gonna stay in this bed and not get up unless I have to."

Another night at the Bluebird Inn and that means, another night of sleeping with Cas and he's  not  complaining  at  all. As predicted, Sam heads to bed early, but he put his ear buds in to give Dean the okay to watch TV. _What a guy._

"They have on demand here, wanna watch a movie?" Dean asks Cas as he settles in the bed. They're touching again but this time, they're both fully clothed and Dean needs to do something about that.

"Sure, anything you like," Cas tells him, fumbling with the pillow to prop up behind him.

They settle for Back to the Future and Dean does see the humor in why this is the movie they end up watching. Dean has time traveled more than anyone. He's gone to the 70s, _twice_ , the 40s, the future, he wonders what else the space time continuum has in store for him.

He'd love to be able to time travel on his own free will, though. He'd definitely go to the first opening show Led Zeppelin performed, or maybe even Woodstock, and… no, all that mud would drive him crazy. Unless he was there with Cas.

Now he's imagining how much fun it would be sharing a tent, getting all dirty in the rain, maybe getting high and fucking in the lake, and that would be actually pretty damn awesome.

Or even more so to see Cas marvel at the scene, watching his reaction to all the drugged up hippies, the energy of the bands playing, everyone letting loose, and not caring about the harsh world outside, just having a damn good time. He'd have to ask Cas one day if he remembers that time and what he was doing back then.

 _Imagine he was actually there?_ Dean laughs at the thought, remembering how Cas was when they first met and it occurs to him that if Cas is going to experience something like a hippy music gathering, he'd want to be there with him.

The movie ends and the bounce of the mattress means Cas got up. He watches him do that _removing the tie_ thing, how he loosens it just before undoing the knot, then he slips it off of his neck in one smooth and painfully slow move, and he's starting to suspect he's found some new kink because really, what the fuck?

His slim fingers start unbuttoning his shirt, carefully, and Dean's mesmerized. He swallows the nervous lump in his throat when Cas takes off the shirt and _my God, those biceps..._ and places it neatly on the chair, draping it over the back, and then he starts on his pants.

He knows Cas isn't trying to seduce him. He knows that this is nothing more than his friend getting ready for bed, but the fact that Dean's now sporting a hard on means that whatever the hell it is, it's working. He studies Cas' thighs, and the shape and flex of the muscles when he leans over, balancing himself as he steps out of his pants.

Is sleeping in their underwear together considered too intimate? Fuck it, he does not even care.

"Dean?"

And he's busted checking out his best friend. "Hm?" Dean says, his tone higher than normal, that it sounds like a damn squeak. Cas crawls into bed and pulls the covers over him, leaning against the headboard.

"Should you change as well?"

 _Probably but I have a raging hard on and if I get up you'll see it and probably think I'm a perv because I can't even watch you undress without thinking of touching you and watching your face when I show you all that I know about the male anatomy_.

"Yeah, I, uh, I will."

What he means is, he'll slide out of bed with his back turned, and head for the bathroom and rub one out in the shower because he's fairly certain he'll have zero control over his junk if he doesn't get some kind of release. Like now-ish.

He tells Cas he'll be right back and makes it - hard on undetected - to the bathroom. Starting the shower, he takes off his clothes and smiles at the reality that he's actually been fantasizing about Cas all damn week and sure, he should be repressing this shit because he knows these desires are totally one sided and if Cas really did find out about what's actually going on in his head, he might end their friendship right then and there.

Smile's gone now. Damn. He'd hate for that to happen, really. If he thought for one second that there's even the slightest chance Cas is interested in more than just a friendship, he'd make his move, fuck it. But when all's said and done, Cas has no interest in him, he's just his friend, one who probably drives him crazy sometimes, and Dean would be an idiot to think someone like Cas would ever want someone like him.

Okay, back to the Cas in his head who wants him. Who needs him. Who would do anything to devour him. He gets a good rhythm going already, even before a scenario plays out in his head, because just the mere idea of Cas wanting him makes him ready to shoot his load.

He's not imagining Hippy Cas now though, he's with his very own Castiel, sharing that bed, watching a movie as Cas slides his hand under the sheets and begins to massage his thigh. The back of his hand brushing purposefully against his erection, and yeah, he's so fucking hard, so ready to feel that hand grip on his cock, jerking him, quietly as not to wake up Sam.

 _Yeah Cas, slide that thumb over the tip, spread that precum_.

Fuck, it feels so good, his cock throbbing in his hand and he loves what Cas is doing to him right now, stroking him while he just fucking stares in his eyes, blue eyes full of love, lust, fucking _Heaven_ …

Dean's coming so hard, he has to catch his breath and then he almost jumps out of his skin when he hears the toilet seat bang against the basin.

"Uh?" Dean peeks out from behind the shower curtain to see Cas standing over the toilet. "Cas? What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Urinating, what does it look like?"

He hears the stream begin to flow and holy shit how long has Cas been standing there because he didn't even hear the damn door open.

"This couldn't wait?"

"No."

He hides behind the curtain until he hears Cas flush, wash his hands, _good boy,_ and leave the bathroom. Dean knows Cas had to hear him, he wasn't really that quiet, and he vaguely recalls hearing himself gasp pretty damn loudly when he came, despite himself. Then again, Cas probably has no idea what Dean was doing in here. For all he knows, it was just a damn good shower.

_Please let it be the latter._

The TV is off by the time Dean makes it back into the room and Cas is lying on his side, facing the window. Dean's trying to be as quiet as possible, assuming Cas fell asleep already, and when he slides in next to him, Cas lifts his head and turns.

"Shit, sorry Cas. Didn't mean to wake you."

"I wasn't sleeping." Cas flips around to face Dean and he folds the pillow under his head, his hand resting in front of him. "I've been thinking about our case."

Dean settles in, trying to find a good place for his arm as well, and settles for in front of his face, almost touching Cas' hand. _This bed is small, way to small._ "Want to talk about it?"

"Aside from the elemental magic, which is really very hard to pull off, I was thinking about the outcome. Mr. Frankfurt (that was his name) followed his wife here, knowing she was committing adultery but he ended up frozen."

"Yeah. We know all this, Cas."

"It just seems a little sad."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Sad? Aw, Cas, don't tell me you're getting all sentimental over a bunch of strangers."

"If I- I thought I was in a committed relationship, with the person I love, the person I imagined spending my life with, only to have that person find comfort in someone else's arms, I think it would devastate me."

Is he actually talking to Cas about this? "Well, when you put it that way, sure, it sucks. Staying single seems safer, don't you think?" Dean says with a smirk and he almost wants to punch his own face for being such a goddamned liar about that last part.

"That's a lonely existence."

"Cas, how old are you?"

"Old."

"Seriously, in numbers, if you can."

"Dean, I was here before creation. What's your point?"

Dean sighs. "And how many people have you been in a relationship with?"

He knows it's zero, or wait, he _assumes_ it is. Cas said he was a virgin all those years ago, and he knows he hasn't seen him with anyone since he's known him, at least not in a committed relationship.

Cas looks away and... _fuck,_ did he make him feel bad? "None."

"And you're okay, right? I mean, it's not like you're out there trying to find a wife, or-"

"Husband?" Cas says with a smile.

 _He did not just…_ "Right okay, yeah, whatever you're into."

Dean smiles nervously, his heart racing now, cheeks burning hot, and his stupid hand is shaking. He notices Cas look down at said hand and he reaches out, touching it so slightly, sending little sparks of electricity through Dean, starting at his fingertips and moving through his body, and ending up joining the butterflies that are now fluttering around in his stomach.

"Are you cold?"

There's something called words that he knows he's supposed to make come out of his mouth, but he has no idea how to do that at the moment. Maybe if he moves his lips, it'll help. "N-no, I'm good, just a little out of it, I guess."

"You're shaking."

 _No shit._ "Yea, uh, I think I'm just over-caffeinated, you know, all that soda."

"Well, if you're not tired…"

Why does he have to say shit like this, like _that,_ in that tone, when it could mean a thousand things and at this very moment, Dean wants it to mean something so much more.

"Yeah?" He manages to say, in between choking on his own saliva.

"You can tell me about your dreams. If I- if I'm in them, I assure you I haven't visited you, while you sleep, you know, as I used to."

Oh how can he forget _that_. He remembers those crazy dream invasions he used to do. And Anna. Uriel even. Angels can do that sort of shit and he's sweating now, imaging Cas coming to him in his dreams and doing all that stuff, the sex stuff with him and wow, guilt free fucking. How about it, Cas?

"W-would you even be able to? I mean, are you strong enough to even crash my dreams?"

_Say yes. Please say yes._

"I'm not sure. We can try if you like."

If he wasn't shaking badly before… "Uh, well, uh, the dreams vary though, Cas. It's not always the same."

"I see." Cas looks up at the ceiling and then back at Dean. "One night, you were… actually, twice now it appeared you were… liking the dream. But last night, you had some nightmare."

Dean wants to laugh, no he wants to cry, and if there's any chance in hell he'd allow Cas in his dreams, he wants to know right now that whatever happens, he can't say a damn word to Sam. "Yeah, like I said, not always the same."

"Is there a common theme? Am I always in them? Bad and good?"

Dean rakes his bottom lip with his teeth, licking the slight sting afterward. "Yeah. Well sort of. Do you remember when Zachariah sent me into the future?"

"Yes."

"I've been dreaming about being back there, but only with Cas, _that_ Cas."

He watches Cas' eyes flicker and he gets this far away glare that can only mean he's thinking of something, probably coming up with a million reasons as to why. "I was there?"

He never told him? _Oh yeah_. He's foggy now on how much he did reveal to him and Sam about his time there. "M'hm."

"I was different, wasn't I? I remember now, upon your return, you made me promise not to change." Cas smiles and his eyes are actually sparkling. What did Dean ever do to deserve such an unbelievably beautiful person as this?

"To say the least. Drugs, orgies."

Castiel chuckles and… _my God, that is so damn adorable._ "No, really, Dean."

"I swear, you were human, like no powers, and you were into this guru thing, and by the looks of it, you had a nice little following of chicks, some men too, I think."

"Why on earth… never mind. So, is this the Cas you're seeing in your dreams?"

"Yeah."

"And what happens with him?"

Now the fun part. How much can Dean tell Cas without revealing too much, like anything really? "We hang out, smoke some joints, uh, talk." Even Dean can't believe how full of shit he is.

"That doesn't sound so bad, Dean."

_Fine, we make use of his king sized bed, or even the couch, because Cas doesn't care where in the dreams, so long as he can seduce Dean. The where is not even an issue._

"It's not, that's not the bad part."

"Then, tell me about the bad part."

Dean sighs, chills replacing the feverish heat that was taking him over. "I watch you die. Well, him die. In my arms, he's been stabbed--"

"Oh."

"Yeah, it's pretty fucked up. It feels _really_ real."

"Did this happen when you went there in 2009?"

_No, Cas just walked into his own death scene, being a diversion so that Dean could fail at killing Lucifer, and get his neck crushed instead._

"No, that's the thing. It didn't. _That_ Cas was with us at the showdown with Lucifer… Sam, shit, I really never told you anything about this, huh?"

"It's okay Dean. I had imagined it was unsettling since you never brought it up."

 _Unsettling?_ Not even the word he'd choose. More like traumatic.

"Long story short, Camp Chitaqua, you and Dean had this army of people, oh and Chuck was there, and you were a druggy sex junkie, Dean was a hard ass dick. You guys took a team to kill Lucifer with the Colt, and yeah you don't have to tell me, but back then even I thought that thing would have worked, and then you all died. I watched Lucifer kill _that_ Dean and then he and I had a nice conversation. Then I was back. Good Times."

He can't tell the expression on Cas' face, but he looks neither surprised or affected by what he just said. "That… must have been horrible for you."

"Yeah, it kinda was."

"And this memory, this terrible reality, you're seeing it again in your dreams so many years later."

"Right, except I'm not seeing any of that. Just Cas… in his cabin, and when we're not hanging out (fucking), he's bleeding out. I don't even get it, like why? I rarely ever think about that time, or what happened in that _Apocalypse Now_ universe, so why now?"

"Interesting. I wish I had an answer for you." Cas settles into his pillow, relaxing his shoulders. "Are you worried about me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're seeing me die, maybe you're afraid of something happening to me?"

_Everyday. Every damn day I worry about you leaving me, or dying, or disappearing._

"Don't know. I mean, I worry about all of us all the time, why would now be any different?"

Cas is silent, clearly thinking more about it, so Dean speaks, "Plus, it's _that_ Cas. The Hippy one. It's like… he's doing it. He's making these dreams happen and I know it doesn't make any sense, he's dead… and that universe shouldn't even exist right? I mean, since it never happened?"

"I'm not so sure about that, Dean."

"What part?"

"Just because you, _we_ changed the outcome of that particular future, doesn't mean that existence is gone. It just… moved."

"Come again?"

Castiel presses his lips together. "When Zachariah sent you there, that was _one_ possibility out of many, many more. One future that could have happened if you said 'no' to Michael and Sam said 'yes'.”

“Now, not all of them exist in a time or place. It's similar to how a psychic can get a glimpse of the future, in that they are only seeing what's possible at that very moment in time. Things change, people make different choices, therefore that future is now changed, but the other possibilities are still there, just not in our timeline. Not in our dimension."

"So, that future that Zach showed me could actually really still exist?"

"Yes, but it's been moved, since you changed the outcome of your own existence, of Sams, mine. We altered that future, made our own, so that place needed somewhere to go, and so it moved to another dimension."

Mind officially blown. "Holy shit."

"Some things cannot be changed, as you've seen when you went to the past. But the future, well, there are many possibilities, many outcomes, room for personal choices and free will. Not everything is written as prophecy to come to pass, therefore there's wiggle room."

"Right, because if everything happened the way it started out, nobody would have any choices in how their lives are led."

"Exactly. You change your fate, your destiny, but that doesn't mean there aren't things that are meant to be. Birth, death, is usually concrete, unable to alter, of course all three of us have tested that theory." He smiles.

"People… soulmates, all very real and all impossible to ignore. If you do, you are brought to another life to fulfill what you've missed," Cas finishes.

"Reincarnation? That's real?"

"For some, it is. Your soul can be reborn. Some people _choose_ to be reborn. Some choose to remain in Heaven. It's up to you, humans, to come back if you want to."

"But soulmates… you said impossible to ignore and having to come back to fulfill it."

"That's a choice as well and very rarely does someone choose _not_ to find their soulmate."

Castiel says that with a warm smile and it starts doing things to Dean's heart, he feels like he's about to cry, which he absolutely will not do, by the way. "That's insane."

Insane that he never knew any of this, that he assumed one soul, one life, and that was it. But the soulmate thing… he always knew it existed, he always believed in it, the closet sap he really is. He's always wanted it and there's something telling him that his is looking at him right now.

"Do angels have soulmates?" He bites his inner cheek, trying not to smile too widely because really, he must look like either a lunatic or a twelve year old schoolgirl.

"Why do you ask?" Cas says with squinted eyes but a hint of a small, _very small_ smile.

"Curious?"

"We do. We can. It depends."

"On what?"

"On the angel. When we were created, we had specific titles, duties, and sometimes our duties involved war, sometimes protection. We were made to serve God, and his will was for us to love humanity. Some angels found their soulmates that way, with humans. As angels could never find that in each other."

Dean has to bring himself back down from the ceiling because he swears he was not in his body a second ago. "Really? Why?"

"Because angels see each other more as brothers and sisters, than lovers. While I have seen angels fornicate, they rarely go beyond that, as far as bringing it to a more emotional state. No, that was what the humans provided."

"But isn't it like a sin on both sides, for like angels and humans to get it on?"

_Say no, please say no, but then again, who the hell cares? Nobody's keeping score anymore up there._

"A sin? No, of course not. What makes you ask that?"

"I dunno, I thought angels were supposed to be pure, you know, chaste and all that."

Castiel smiles wider. "You weren't afraid of damning me for all eternity when you brought me to that brothel."

Dean laughs. Cas: one, Dean: zero. "Okay, got me there, but really, isn't it like a huge angel no-no?"

"Try telling that to Balthazar and Gabriel."

"So angel-human sex, it happens, it's common, got it."

"You didn't have an issue with it while you took Anna in the back seat of your car."

Dean coughs. Fuck, how could he forget… "Uh well, she was, uh--"

"The only warning angels had was that procreation with humans was strictly forbidden. Nephilim were considered abominations."

"Ahh, humans having angel babies," Dean sings.

"When I said angels _had_ the warning, I no longer feel the way I used to. I think- I think if an angel is truly in love with that human, why not have _angel babies_." Cas is smiling and Dean has to cover his mouth before he cracks up too loudly.

And hearing this side of Cas is almost too fucking amazing. Angels in love… yeah, Anna was so full of shit. "So Anna was lying. Angels can fall in love."

Castiel's smile fades as he keeps his eyes locked on Dean's, making his head feel a little woozy. "Very much so. Sometimes painfully."

Dean's at a loss for words because he's pretty sure this conversation has taken a really personal turn from Cas' perspective, seeing as they rarely ever talk about angels and Heaven, at least not in this context.

He wonders if Cas has ever fallen in love with a human, in all his years, millennium, whatever, that he's been an angel. Surely he'd have to have felt something for some of the humans he watched, interacted with, _rose from perdition_ …

His mouth is suddenly dry and he wants to find out, like really find out about Cas' love life, even if he'd never been into anything. He wants to know if he's been _that_ guy who's so in love with someone, he'd do anything for them, give up everything for them, and... wait. Of course, Dean's smart enough to know that he's not even an option. But he wonders, really wonders if Cas ever felt it before for someone, anyone?

He's suddenly insanely jealous of anyone that could win Castiel's heart.

"Anyway, I think we're getting carried away here, what we should do is find out if _that_ Castiel even did actually die. If he's alive, and trying to contact you through your dreams, he must still retain some of his grace, or enough to do so. Unless he has the means to perform a dream-walking spell, which takes a number of ingredients and if he is living in this post apocalyptic existence as you say, I can't imagine the items being easy to come by."

 _In a nutshell._ "I don't know if anyone came out of that alive. Lucifer won. He killed Dean, and most likely everyone else in that goddamned camp."

"How do you know?"

"Dude, not only was it hell on earth, Croatoan was everywhere, people were killing each other."

"That virus?"

"Yes! Lucifer spread that shit like the common cold. It was everywhere, cities were being bombed just to get rid of the chance of contamination. Cas, it was bad."

Cas frowns, stroking his chin. "You said Dean had a camp full of people, me, Castiel, included. This was year 2014, they seemed to survive that long, what's to say some aren't still alive?"

 _Good point._ "Why would Lucifer spare them?"

"Because he didn't care about them. He wanted Dean dead for obvious reasons, which makes me wonder, had Dean changed his mind at that point? Had he regretted saying 'no'?"

"He full on begged me to say yes when I went back to 2009. He said he tried to, you know after the shit hit the fan, but Michael ignored him."

Dean's starting to feel tingly all over, like they're so close to coming to some kind of revelation, he's not going to be able to sleep tonight if there's any chance in hell that Cas survived that, and that he's actually reaching out to him, and how in the hell would he even be able to help him?

"Interesting. So Lucifer must not have known that, or else Dean would pose no threat if Michael refused to acknowledge Dean's pleas at that point. But in his mind, threat's done. The virus was probably to weaken Dean's defenses, kill him one way or another. He knows Dean is stronger when he has people by his side,"

Castiel cracks a small smile and continues, "If I know Lucifer, once Dean was gone, he stopped destroying mankind. He doesn't need a virus to make them kill each other. We all know that."

"Yeah, all too well."

"Anyway, there would be no reason to kill anyone else once he took that universe. He'd want people to serve him, _humanity_ to serve him, bow down to him, follow him, and if they're dead, well, they would be useless. Unless they'd gone to Hell and became demons but even demons weren't his endgame."

"So-"

"So sleep on it. Try to control the dreams,"

Dean almost wants to laugh because he kind of already has been and he was _kind of_ making it sexual… and by 'kind of' he means, completely.

"And talk to him. Find out if it's possible to get him to explain why he's trying to reach you."

"Okay, I'll try. Not sure how much control I _do_ have."

"If you make progress, we can discuss me coming inside."

Dean's head almost explodes. "Uh… right, inside my dreams, got it."

"You're acting so strangely tonight. I think perhaps you need to sleep."

Oh, if he only knew that the words, _coming inside_ has him half hard again, and no, he won't let this happen because two showers in one night will be highly suspicious.

"Yes, sleep."

Dean leans over to turn off the lamp and lets his head fall back onto the pillow. He turns onto his other side because staring at Castiel is a little too much to handle right now.

"Goodnight Dean."

"Night, Cas."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI, when the two Cas' are together, I use the name "Cas" for Endverse!Cas and "Castiel" for current Cas, just so it doesn't get too confusing. Spoken dialog may still refer to them both as Cas, though. And I do try to distinguish between the two. :)

The diner is too noisy and aside from trying to focus on what Mrs. Frankfurt is saying, all he can think about is the conversation that he had with Cas last night. From all the love and sex talk between angels and humans, to the fact that Castiel of Beyond Thunderdome could actually still be alive, only in some other parallel universe, it has him antsy and pissed that he didn't have a dream last night.

His brain usually begins to hurt at this point when trying imagine time travel and the space time continuum, but he's too focused on finding out if it's true, if _that_ Cas is trying to talk to him. He knows he'll have to just come out and ask him, risking the chance of not getting laid, but priorities, right?

"Yes, I was with Ronnie but Jack and I, we've been separated for almost a year. I don't know why he'd show up at the Bluebird Inn. It just makes no sense."

Dean's head is back at the diner. Right. Noisy, annoying, Mrs. Frankfurt is talking, and Dean's already bored because it's obvious she's not the one who conjured elemental hoodoo or whatever the hell Cas called it. With Sam's eager look in Dean's direction he knows that she's innocent.

"Do you know why you're soon to be ex husband had a tattoo on his wrist of an ancient rune?" Sam asks her.

She shakes her head. "Tattoo? He never had that when we were together so he must have gotten it after I- I left."

"And how did he take the split? I mean, I'm guessing that you're the one to end things?"

Dean feels the need to join in on the conversation since they are supposed to be partners, working for the FBI, and he's spent half the time in lala land thinking of Cas and the Multiverse.

"You want to know how he reacted to our break up? Really?"

"If he's sneaking around in the same place you're banging… sorry, _spending_ the night with his replacement, it seems like he didn't want to let you go, am I right?" Dean avoids Sam's bitchface that he knows he's giving him.

"H-he, well, no, he didn't take it well, but it's been so long, I had no idea he was still--"

He watches Sam hand her a tissue and Dean rolls his eyes, knowing he's going to hear it later for making her cry. But really, if she had any heart at all, she'd be devastated anyway at the loss of her ex, wouldn't she?

"You mind if we talk to Ronnie? It's just standard procedure," Sam says as he kicks Dean under the table.

"Sure, but I don't see what he has to do with… he avoided Jack whenever he could."

"Like I said, standard procedure. We just have to cover all bases"

She gives Sam a small nod and then writes down an address on a piece of paper from her purse. "We're staying here," she says, her hand shaking as she slips the pen back into her purse before rushing out of the diner.

"So, this Ronnie, you think he took Jack out? Got rid of anything causing his lady friend stress?" Dean asks Sam and then he glances at Cas to get his input as well.

"Could be. I think we'll know once we talk to him," Sam says, as he rises and pulls out his wallet.

He hands the paper with the address to Dean and they head back to the car. Dean thinks of Mrs. Frankfurt and that she wouldn't have expected Jack to be stalking her because in her eyes, he had backed off, accepted the inevitable ending of their marriage. But if the dude was unable to let go and this Ronnie guy caught wind of it, who knows.

He listens to Cas talk more about elemental magic and Dean wonders why it couldn't it have just been a cool freeze ray, like a Captain Cold or Mr. Freeze type thing. Why magic? Dean hates magic more than anything and no, he doesn't count Cas' powers as magical, although, sure he guesses it could be, kinda.

But angels are just angels, with their grace making them heal, smite, resurrect, fucking fly… and now Dean's thinking about wings and how he's seen Cas' or the shadows of them, and he wants to know where they go, like why aren't they always there and can he please see them? Here he is, back on Cas again. On a case? Think of Cas. Eating breakfast? Think of Cas. Taking a shower? Think of Cas.

This is becoming either a very dangerous habit or Dean really has to start coming to grips with his feelings. Just _thinking_ of the latter causes him to panic.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ronnie lives about an hour away from the Inn and when they arrive, Dean notices the curtains draw close as if he'd been waiting for him. Not a good sign but who knows, people can be anxious. Normal, right?

The front door is already opening by the time they reach it and a tall, dark haired, and really easy to look at man greets them (not that Dean notices that last part or anything). He extends his hand and smiles at Sam, first.

"Hi, I'm Ronnie Thomas. Margie said you'd be coming."

"We just have a few questions and then we'll be on our way," Sam says as Ronnie shows them in.

His house is small, but cozy, covered in bookshelves, framed photos, all of Margie and him. Some old records sit next to an equally old turntable and Dean's eyes light up.

"Yeah, I really love the sound of vinyl. It has this warm quality to it that I think digital doesn't quite capture." Ronnie says, catching Dean staring at his collection. 

"Absolutely. Like, nothing beats Houses of the Holy in it's true glory, hearing the sound of the needle on the wax…" Dean's eyes are rolling up.

"Totally. These kids nowadays have no idea what they're missing."

"Right?"

Dean catches Sam and Cas just staring at them, expressionless and probably either thinking, _"wow Dean is old"_ or _"wow, Dean needs to get a life."_

"Anyway, moving on. You're all here about Jack, and all I can tell you is that Margie and I were spending the night at the Inn, it's our anniversary and we, uh, that place has a special nostalgia for us, so when we heard Jack was there, we were both shocked."

Ronnie sits down and gestures for them to do the same on the couch across from him. He leans in, resting his elbows on his knees. "Unfortunate."

"That's a word for it," Cas says, giving Ronnie the look of death. _What the hell?_

"So, how well did you know him?" Sam asks, trying to break the tension that Cas is creating. 

"I've known Jack for years, for as long as I've known Margie. He was reserved, kept to himself a lot, and since the uh, you know, split, I haven't said much to him. Except for that time…"

Ronnie shifts nervously and his sleeve moves a little from his wrist and Dean immediately sees a very familiar tattoo near the bone, almost in exact same place as Jack's. He looks at Sam and raises his eyebrows, tilting his head in Ronnie's direction.

Then Sam's eyes widen. Then Cas'.

"Where'd you get the tat, Ronnie?" Dean asks, lips pouting like he's a know it all and in this case, he's pretty sure he does in fact know where this is heading.

"Tat? What?" Ronnie jumps to his feet and is smiling nervously. "I, uh, I'll be right back."

Cas is in front of Ronnie so fast that he's sure none of them saw him even get up, and - _d_ _amn that's hot-_ he's looking down at him with that Smitey Mc Smiterton glare.

 _Hell yeah,_ _Cas, you bad ass._

"I think you'll stay right here until you answer the question my p-partner," Cas looks at Dean, shyly, "here asked you."

Suddenly Ronnie is shivering in his boots and he lowers himself back down on the chair, looking back and forth between all of them until he finally sits back and sighs.

"It's protection. I- I'm a warlock and this tattoo is protection, that's all. I never meant--"

"Jack had the same tattoo." Dean tells him, trying to see the connection between them other than the woman one of them lost and the other gained.

"He had water protection, I have," he lifts his sleeve, revealing a marking that looks similar to a campfire but so not even that. "I have blaze, or uh fire. We all have a different one, it's for--"

"Protection against what?" Sam asks.

Dean is starting to go over the conversation with Margie again and why she appeared so utterly shocked when they mentioned the tattoo but before he can ask why she played dumb, a female voice says, "The Darkness."

They all go silent, lumps in throat, and the whole nine yards. _So does everyone know about it?_ Margie stands at the doorway leading into the room. Her head is held high, but she is certainly not threatening in her stance. She walks over to Ronnie and places a hand on his shoulder, using it to lean so she can lift her pant leg, revealing her tattoo.

"I'm earth."

"What do you know about the Darkness?" Cas asks her.

She glares at Cas, eyes wide. "You know what… you're not really FBI, are you?"

"Just tell us," Dean butts in.

"I know it will devour everything. I know that if we don't at least try and protect ourselves from it, we'll all be sucked into the void. Have you ever thought about what that would be like? Floating in the big empty? A void of space and time. Nothing?"

Dean sighs. _No. Maybe. Yes?_ "And Jack? What the hell happened to him?"

Ronnie and Margie share a look and she clears her throat. "We were uh, the three of us are actually… we  _were_ actually…"

"Son of a…" Dean chuckles. Sam blows air out of his mouth that curls into a small smile and Cas is just looking on, utterly confused.

A hot woman and her two men.

"And then what happened to poor ole Jack?" Dean asks her, glancing briefly at Cas and trying hard not to laugh at his utter lack of understanding that they were a threesome in more ways than one.

"We used to be tight. We've spent years together, practicing our craft, all in peaceful ways, I assure you. But he started to get _too_ into it, trying to go beyond our level of knowledge when it came to Elemental magic, and the conjuring started, and well, we told him to either stop or we're leaving."

Sam crosses his arms, nodding. "So he got himself frozen."

Ronnie and Margie nod, but clearly they're grieving and the whole thing upsets them. "Okay, so back to the Darkness, how do you know about it?"

Margie looks nervous now as she clings to Ronnie's wrist. "We just hear things, you know, from certain circles, and… it's really screwing things up in the supernatural world."

Sam and Dean look at each other and all Dean can think of is what Death told him that day in the restaurant. " _A horribly destructive, amoral force that was beaten back by God and his archangels in a terrible war"_

"Screwing things up, like how?"

"Like Jack, he was doing his normal protection ritual, and yeah, he was out of his league but… to get frozen? It takes a lot of power to do that and we know he didn't have it."

"And?"

"And things starting getting weird about a month ago. Even with our normal ritualistic meetings, we'd see things appear, things not of this world. It's like--" Ronnie looks at Margie for help.

"It's like dimensions are colliding. Mashing together. We'd see images from other worlds, other times… not of this earth. It started to freak us out."

Cas and Dean's eyes meet and Dean notices them as wide as his must be. That's no coincidence and Dean feels a chill in the air and he swears he shivers.

 

* * *

 

 

"So you've been seeing this place in your dreams since we got back to the bunker? That's like a month ago, Dean."

Sam's fidgeting, clicking on various web pages but not looking at any of them so Dean closes the top and deflects the ultimate scowl from him.

"Will you get off the internet for one second? And yes, I've been dreaming of Dystopia, U.S.A and now I'm starting to think there's more to it."

"You could have said something, you know, like a month ago maybe?"

 _Holy shit_. "True, but I'm telling you now. _Now,_ that I think there are people still alive and they're trying to communicate to me."

"You mean, Cas."

"Yeah, Cas."

They stare at each other for a few more seconds before Dean stands, thinking about grabbing a few beers out of the mini fridge when Cas does it for him. Dean gladly accepts and he watches him hand one to Sam, who takes it with a growl.

"And you knew?" he asks Cas, who's sitting down, about to enjoy his own beer.

"Only last night." Castiel sips his beer, looking at them both like it's just another day. _Oh Cas_.

"Alright, so now what? How do we find out if these dimensions or whatever are _mashing?_ " Sam says, repeating Margie's words.

"I suggest me going into Dean's dreams to see if I could tell. Usually I'm aware of inter-dimensional wavelengths, I think it would our best bet."

He sips his beer again and Dean chuckles at how calm he is. Universes colliding, someone trying to contact to Dean who's from another timeline, dream crashing, no big deal.

"I didn't dream about it last night so there's no telling if and when I will," Dean reminds Cas, still really apprehensive about Cas poking around in his subconscious.

Would it be awesome to have an actual private moment with Cas without anyone knowing about it? Hell yeah. Is he risking exposing himself, his feelings, his real fucking desires, sending Cas packing? Yup, also that. Conflict is now his middle name.

"What do you think, Sam?"

Sam finally takes a swig after playing with the label and tearing it off. "I think that's a good idea. We trust you, Cas. You'll know."

"Maybe. Maybe not. If the Darkness is erasing the lines between dimensions, it may all feel the same but on the other hand, have you all thought about what it could mean? For us?" Cas is watching them, intently. Sam and Dean shrug in unison.

"Imagine that world, Dean. That existence flashing in this one, on occasion. Imagine seeing the people, even Lucifer. Who happens to be--"

"Sam."

"Sam," Cas echoes.

Cas glances at Sam and continues, "It's not like all parallel universes will combine as one, that's impossible, even for the Darkness, but to erase the barriers, the very blocks that hold it in place," he turns to Dean.

"Your dreams will not only become more frequent, it will begin to be harder to tell what's real and what's a dream. We'll see glimpses, as Ronnie and Margie said, of things, people from other worlds, we may even be able to hold conversations, or even touch them if we tried."

"Woah." Dean almost chokes on his beer. _Touch?_  He feels his face grow hot and he sometimes wishes he wasn't so pale and freckly because every time he blushes, he knows how obvious it is.

"Touch? Like, in _touch?_ "

"Physically yes," Cas tells him.

"Or kill?" Sam adds.

Cas turns to Sam and nods.

"So they can kill us? We can kill them?" Dean's heart is racing now. He's seeing Hippy Cas, scared and begging for him to leave. " _He's coming…"_ Could be someone from another damn dimension.

"Theoretically, it's possible."

"Okay, so tonight you gatecrash my head, okay? You have my permission. Go for it."

There's no time to waste and Dean's like niney-nine percent sure this is exactly what's been going on. It's a loop and he's not sure why, but Cas is in trouble. Maybe he's seeing a future outcome for him, maybe Cas never died, and he's living in Chitaqua with some otherworldly big bad after him. It's coming together in his mind but at the same time, he's missing something, some crucial piece of the puzzle and it's just out of reach.

"If you're sure." Cas looks at him with the puppy dog blues and… yeah he's sure.

"Yup."

They decide to spend one more night at the Bluebird Inn, wanting to do the dream thing and since the frozen dead guy case is solved, according to them, they're leaving first thing in the morning. Dean can't almost wait to go to sleep. He's excited, nervous, and he knows if he doesn't calm down, he'll never be able to fall asleep in the first place.

They eat, talk more about Dean's dreams (or what he's willing to share). Talking about almost having butt sex with Cas' other self is really not something he's too eager to discuss. He knows he's sweating now, but he can't even wrap his brain around the fact that he and that Cas were so intimate, so exposed, and if _that_ Cas was just as aware of what was happening as Dean was, it brings this to a whole new level of weird.

Dean thought he was dreaming, seeing someone from many years ago, going with the flow of his subconscious. He's had sex with many, and he means _many_ people in his subconscious. Some he's more than eager to forget about. (Dreaming of having sex with his dad's hunting buddy, Earl was enough to make him wish he didn't dream at all) but they were just that, dreams, and if this thing with Cas is something more, if Cas is really aware of everything he's doing in there, Dean has a lot to answer for. Most of all, he doesn't want _that_ Cas. He wants _his_ Cas. And if he'd known, as hot as it was, he would not have done that with him.

After dinner, Sam retires to his bed with his laptop and clicks away on random sites dealing with exactly what they've been talking about: Inter-dimensional portals, barriers being erased, possible string theories, yadda yadda. Dean wants to be doing the same, but he's more focused on how in the hell he's going to control his dream, so _his_ Cas doesn't see him balls deep with the other one.

Fuck, talk about awkward.

He wants to wait until Sam goes to sleep before even thinking about going to bed. He's just not really in the mood to have Sam watching them, and what in the hell are they going to look like anyway? Lying together in bed, faces to the ceiling, will Cas even be asleep for it? Or does he dreamwalk awake? He thinks, awake.

And his mind is going nuts, and he   has  to   calm  the   fuck   down  or else he's never going to be able to do this. It seems like hours, literal hours pass but he knows it's only been forty five minutes when he checks his watch.

"Dean, are you sure about this?"

Dean's finally lying down, now that Sam's out for the count and Cas is coming over to the bed, taking off his suit jacket, hanging it on the chair, and.. _tie, be the tie next,_ or wait no, don't. He can't be aroused now, then who the hell knows what he's gonna dream about.

But Cas leaves on the tie, pants, and socks, crawls into bed, taking his place next to Dean.

"Yeah man, I'm sure."

"Is there… something that will help you fall asleep?"

 _Oh, let me count the ways._ "Uh, maybe watch some boring shit on TV?"

"Or I can read to you."

Dean's eyebrows raise. He's never had… not since his mother. "Read to me?"

"I have Wuthering Heights, if you want."

A slight chuckle escapes his lips but then he yawns and thinks that might actually be kind of cool. Soothing. So, "Yeah, okay."

He catches Cas flash a smile as he reaches for the book and open it, resting it on his lap. He clears his throat and Dean gets into a comfortable position, closing his eyes as Cas begins.

"1801. I have just returned from a visit to my landlord…"

Dean listens to his voice, so soothing and warm. He never really imagined Cas' gruff, gravelly tone could be so pacifying. He could probably make audiobook to cure people with insomnia.

He continues the story and Dean's only half paying attention. He's more focused on the sound of Cas' voice, the vibration he feels from it, and he's probably smiling now but he doesn't care.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

There's something ahead and he's walking so damn slowly to get to it. It's like he's stuck in mud, or molasses, or drying cement. Dean looks down and realizes that he is in fact, in mud. _What the hell?_   He takes in his surroundings and doesn't recognize the thick woods he seems to be in.

Looking around, he wishes there was more light, because it's dark, too dark, and he wonders why there's no moon out tonight. _Must be cloudy_. But that figure in the distance, he has to get to it and he's cursing his boots right now, unable to move fast enough and why is there so much goddamned mud?

He lifts his feet, one after another, ignoring the fact that his boots are stuck. Really, those boots can go to hell. The figure is closer and Dean's making better progress now that the ground seems to be drier for some reason.

"Dean, where are we?"

Cas. Fucking Cas. His Cas. He made it. "I have no idea. This is all new to me," Dean says, out of breath but thankful he finally caught up to him.

"So you're not sure if we're in that place?"

"I've never seen this before in my life. Or if I have, it hasn't been in my dreams. So, no clue."

Cas is looking around, up, down, and then he stops on Dean. He's checking him out, head to toe and it almost looks like he's trying not to smile.

"What?" Dean looks down at himself and notices that he's in nothing but a pair of underwear. Of course, isn't that always how it goes in dreams where your best friend is crashing.

"Yeah, well, no control over my dream wardrobe."

"It's okay, you're aesthetically pleasing to the eyes. I'm not complaining."

 _The fuck he just say?_   "Oh geez, thanks. Maybe you should strip down too, so we're even."

Cas tilts his head and begins to remove his tie but Dean stops him, laughing while he grabs his hand. "No, I'm kidding."

He leaves his hand on Castiel's a lot longer than he means to and it makes them both withdraw and cough nervously.

"Okay, so I have a feeling this isn't a 2014 dream. Or if it is, it's a new place, that's for sure."

Dean looks around, trying to make out anything but it's impossible. "Is it really dark here?"

"Yes, it is."

"So you're even having trouble seeing anything?"

They begin to walk, treading carefully as one does when visibility is low. Dean reaches for Cas a few times, lightly clutching his shirt (Cas is in just his button down shirt and slacks, oh and a bonus, the tie), and the area remains unchanged as if they're walking in circles.

Dean stops, sighing dramatically. "I think it's a bust. I don't think we're--"

"Dean, look."

He follows Cas' gaze to a small light in the distance, flickering, making tiny crackling sounds. "A campfire?"

Cas keeps his eyes locked on it as he walks on, taking Dean by the wrist as he moves briskly through the brush. Okay, this is as close to holding hands as Dean and Cas have ever been and you know what? It works. They keep on, getting closer and Dean freezes when he sees the Hippy Cas there, squatting in front off the fire, his hands extended out, warming them from the heat of the flames.

Dean watches him for a few seconds longer, taking in his messy hair, his dirty white linen shirt, his jeans that are way too big on him, and he has to wonder now what _his_ Cas thinks of this. He turns to him and he's just looking at his counterpart with wide eyes, but a furrowed brow. Yet another look Castiel seeems to pull off that is both frightening and adorable.

Cas looks up and his eyes widen as well. He sees Castiel, then Dean, and he's straightening up. "Dean?"

"Uh, hey Cas, I uh, brought along a friend this time. I think you may know each other."

He watches the two Castiels eye each other and it's really amusing. He sees now why this Cas got such a kick out of having two Deans around for that brief time. It's freakin' hilarious to witness. Cas, _the hippy Cas_ walks over to them, keeping his eyes on Castiel and studying him, dissecting him, and it's pretty funny.

"This is what I used to look like," he says, not tearing his eyes off of him. "I was neat, clean, and oh," his eyes widen and eyebrows raise, while a small smile creeps up on his face. "And so full of grace. I've missed that grace."

Cas is now reaching out, touching Castiel, running his hands down his arms, then to his waist, hips, until Castiel backs up and says, "Hey, stop that."

Dean wants to laugh, he really does but instead, he turns to Castiel and touches his shoulder. "He's really into the whole vibe thing, you'll get used to it."

He hears Cas start to laugh and he moves to Dean, his eyes flickering now, and...  _oh shit, no, not here, not now._

"How did you find me?"

"Uh, the campfire was a good clue."

Cas laughs again, looking back and forth between Dean and his double. "Right. Usually you come to my cabin and end up wearing far less than your underwear."

There's an awkward silence and Dean coughs to break the tension that he thinks is just coming from him. "Yeah well, I don't really have control as to where my head likes to send me."

"You seemed to have control the other night. That was… we should finish that." Cas is smiling and licking his lips as he gives Dean a once over.

Dean wishes he could disappear right now, or wake up and never, and he means never try this again. He glances at his Castiel who is looking at him, forehead wrinkled as he narrows those eyebrows _and fuck,_ he thinks Castiel understands what his counterpart is talking about.

Dean laughs nervously. "Okay, okay, enough of this small talk," he eyes them both, doing a really bad job at hiding his embarrassment. "Cas, so you're alive, you never died back then?"

He wonders if _his_ Castiel already figured out that this wasn't exactly a normal dream, if he could actually tell that Cas was alive and dreamwalking. "He's alive," his Castiel says.

The other Cas is silent, looking down and then back up at them. "I'm alive but… what's going on? How am I even able to do this?"

"The Darkness," Castiel says and the other Cas' eyes grow wide.

"Are you serious? How?" Suddenly there's a loud crash of thunder overhead. The color in Hippy Cas' face drains to a paler shade than usual and he looks at Dean, lips quivering as he tries to talk.

"Leave now, he'll kill you both." He glares hard at the other Castiel. "You especially."

"Wait, Cas, who? Who's trying to kill you?"

"I have to… I have to go." He runs off but before Dean could go after him, Castiel grabs his arm.

"No, don't. This is how it needs to play out."

"But, he'll die--"

"Wake up, Dean."

"What?"

"Wake up!"

Dean opens his eyes to see Castiel leaning over him, his face so close, he can feel his breath on his skin. "Cas? Why did you wake me up?"

"I got all I needed."

Leaning up on his elbows, he raises an eyebrow. "And that is?"

"This Castiel is meeting you in his dreams. He's not dreamwalking, or uh, gatecrashing. He's found a way to meet up with you, or rather, call you into his dreams once he's asleep. He's alive, but this is how he's doing it."

"So, he's dreaming too?"

"Yes. He's in a nightmare loop, having recurring dreams as you are. He's… well I'm not sure if he's in a permanent state of unconsciousness or if he's just doing this when he falls asleep."

"Permanent state? Like in a coma?"

"Exactly. I couldn't tell. The only thing I am 100% certain of is, he's alive and pulling you into his existence. But only through the subconscious."

That's a lot to take in but it's good information. Not for _that_ Cas, though, but he's alive and the things that have been happening aren't actually happening, they are in fact, just dreams.

So no death and no sex. Got it. "Okay, okay, good. This is progress."

"We may be able to find who's threatening him. It seems that whoever it is, it's scaring him beyond measure. This could very well be Lucifer, though I highly doubt it, or another entity being from a different plane of existence. We won't know for sure until we see how the dreams play out, when we're ready, and if... if there's a possibility of actually going to his universe."

"Wait, back up. We could actually go there?"

He nods. "It's possible, though I would need a lot of time to prepare. Jumping timelines is one thing, but dimensions is another. Do you remember the time Balthazar sent you to that universe?"

"You mean, where your name was Misha and you were a Twitter junkie? Yeah, I remember."

Castiel laughs and it makes Dean smile. "I am often very bizarre in these places you're sent to, aren't I?"

"Right, because you're so normal in this one."

Cas smirks. "Are you trying to insult me? I just crashed your dream Dean, I'd be careful if I were you."

Dean guffaws and then covers his mouth, peeking over at Sam, making sure he didn't just wake him up. "Touche."

They share a smile and Cas lowers his head to the pillow, placing his hand underneath. "So, you and _that_ Cas…"

If there was any moment that he wished a demon would crash through the window, or a ghost to knock something across the room, or maybe even a vamp to break down the door, now would be that time. Anything to help him avoid answering this question is welcome.

"Funny thing, uh, we uh, he's uh…" Dean forgets words.

"He seems to really like you."

"Can you blame him?" Dean flashes a sly smile, covering the fact that he's about to puke. "I guess I made an impression the time I was there."

Castiel looks at him, curiously. "And aside from seeing him die, you said you two just eat and… do drugs?"

Lying to Cas is a lost cause. He knows it, for every time he has lied to him in the past, Cas would just give him that _'You are so full of shit'_   look, and even if Dean tells him now that he and the other Cas only really did eat and… _do drugs,_  he'll figure out that Dean's withholding something personal and he's bound to realize that it's sex he's not admitting to.

"Well, we talk. There's that." Dean smiles but it fades when Cas gives him the _raised eyebrow, I know there's more_   look. "Okay, we might have… done stuff."

"What stuff?" Cas says, a hint of anger in his voice.

 _Crap_. "I don't know… stuff."

"Dean…"

"Fine, we fool around, you know, naked sometimes. Okay? You happy?"

Dean's flush isn't the only thing heated right now, because he swears he sees Cas' cheeks redden as well. There's a distant look in his eyes and he's not sure if he's just pissed or actually hurt. _It's just a dream, Cas._

"And you… like it?"

"Cas, it's just a dream. It's not even really happening."

"You didn't answer my question," Cas asks, more firmly.

He's now thinking about all the missed opportunities, all those times Dean should have come clean and told Castiel what he was feeling. The fact Dean is and always has been chicken shit when it comes to his feelings, or at least expressing them, is the exact cause for holding him back all those times throughout the years.

Was he jealous of the people in Cas' life? The kiss he and Meg shared? Not to mention the obvious attraction he had for her, and the reaper? Sure that was a disaster but poor human Cas trusted her enough to fucking sleep with her… Sex. His first time… with a damn reaper who ended up killing him.

And despite all that, Dean was jealous, yeah, he was fucking pissed that it happened, but relieved, so damn relieved that Gadreel brought him back… to him (only for Dean to send him away again) and fuck, he didn't need that memory.

"I guess so. Yeah. Why?"

"Interesting," he says, turning over to his back with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Is Cas mad? Upset? Can he actually be… jealous? But that would mean...

"Hey," Dean tugs Cas' shirt, getting his attention. Cas looks at him, but he's reserved and far away. Such a contrast to the warm looks he was giving him the night prior. "It didn't mean anything."

And Dean has no idea why he's treating this like he cheated on Cas or something, because for starters, Cas isn't even interested in him that way and wait for it… it was a damn dream.

"Does that make it better? Easier? To not have it mean something?"

Crap, he's doing psych 101 on him now. "No, no, I mean, it was a dream, Cas. He-he wasn't even really there either, he was just in my head, or I was in his, whatever. You know what I mean."

"And he wants you. You want him."

"It's not like that. I don't want him. I don't even know him."

This conversation is taking a turn for the worst and now Dean feels like a complete pile of shit. Why is Cas so affected by it? And if it's jealousy he's feeling, Dean wants to know why.

"You barely know 99% of the people you sleep with."

Dean opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. He wants to defend himself, because really, Castiel, Angel of the Goddamned Lord - he did not even sleep with _that_ Cas, it was a stupid dream and if Castiel only knew that it was _him_ , the angel that's lying RIGHT damn next him in bed was the one he wanted, maybe he'd stop this bullshit at trying to make Dean feel like crap.

He knows his own sexual history, thank you very much. He doesn't need a judgey Castiel to throw it back in his face. Dean had years to better himself and sure, he still has his one night wonders here and there but nothing like he used to, and he started even feeling like shit afterwards. So sure, he fucked up when he was a demon, but that was the last damn time he'd been with anyone. _Anyone._

If he had to find the major reason for that, aside from him being consumed with other problems, is that he can't stop thinking about the one guy, the one angel that made him feel like he was worth a damn thing.

And now that same angel is making him feel worthless. Like a horny piece of shit that screws whatever has a pulse. Fuck this.

He's not going to say anything more because this is definitely going to turn in a fight that he would much rather avoid. Instead, he turns on his side, his back to Cas and says, roughly, "I'm goin' to sleep. I don't need this crap from you."

Cas doesn't respond, so whatever. He ended this conversation anyway and he hopes in this next dream, he doesn't see any of them because he's done with Castiel for a while and the only reason… the only damn reason Dean even went ahead with sex with Guru Hippy Cas was because  _his_ Castiel doesn't want him like that. _That_ one does and maybe it fucking felt good to have that.

And why is Dean defending himself to… himself?

If Cas showed even an iota of interest, he'd get why Cas would be giving him a hard time, but there is no reason in hell to be doing this now. He's going to talk to him about that, tell him how pissed he is that he allowed him in his dream, only to be judged for fucking around with his counterpart that's not even in corporeal form!

He's fuming and when he turns around to maybe  _not_ end this conversation, Cas is turned on his side, back to Dean. Well, okay. Whatever. Be like that, Cas.


	6. Chapter 6

Cas isn't looking at Dean and Dean isn't looking at Cas. They haven't said one damn word to each other all day. Dean drives them to the halfway point between Vermont and Kansas and finds a motel with three beds, thank god. The night is spent eating burgers, discussing more interdimensional stuff and Castiel seems to avoid Dean's comments, altogether.

He asked him to go into his dream. He asked and now he's mad at God only knows. He is just waiting for an opportunity to chew him out about how fucking unfair that is. When Sam goes to get them something to eat, Dean figures that it's the perfect time to bring this shit up, but as he's about to talk to his pain in the ass angel, Castiel gets up and heads to the bathroom, without a word.

Okay.

He hears the shower run and now the opportunity is gone; Sam's back in an impossible ten minutes, with Chinese take out. He sets the food out on the table, and even Dean has to admit that it smells extremely enticing. He bets Cas will love it, but what does he care, fuck Cas.

They eat in silence, Sam eyeing them both, strangely. He hasn't asked what's up with them, and probably because he knows it's the usual Cas and Dean bitchfest where one is mad at the other, or both are mad, and they do this thing for a day or two until they both give up because being cold and distant to each other is really a goddamned waste of time. Dean knows it. Cas knows it, but they do this shit anyway and if Sam calls them a married couple again, he's going to punch him.

He doesn't know why he lets Cas get under his skin like this. It's always been that way. He's never been so affected by anyone else he's ever met and the only person who has even come close to pissing him off this much is Sam. Cas, who could break his heart with a single word or act, can go on as if he's done nothing wrong.

He could chalk it up to his rusty people skills, having been an angel all his life, and he does remember how different Cas was when they first met. He's grown, but he's still not fully there yet, so he gets it. He does. But it doesn't mean he has to turn the other cheek every time Cas pisses him off. That's not how Dean rolls and he's pretty sure Cas _and_ Sam know this.

He settles into bed, doing his best to avert his eyes, not wanting to see Cas undress because really, that's all he needs is more conflicted feelings right now. He just crawls under the covers and turns to his side to face the wall, ignoring the sounds of Sam and Cas getting ready for bed, specifically Cas.

And knowing he's going to his own bed is making Dean feel things he wishes he didn't. Even thinking about how much he liked having Cas that close to him for the last couple of nights makes Dean angry at himself for feeling so much for that angel, only to have him throw it back in his face. Sort of.

But he really _really_ liked sensation of having his warmth next to him, hearing him breathe as he slept, the occasional brush of skin against skin, and then seeing him open his eyes in the middle of the night to look right at Dean, who had also woken up and had been just staring at him.

Even as pissed as he was last night, it was nice. Dean has a lot of shit going on inside of him right now and not having a mark, or some other damn curse holding him back, he's half tempted to just say fuck it and tell Castiel all of this.

But he won't because he's Dean _Chicken Shit_ Winchester.

He just has to make it one night, one more night in a motel and then they'll be back on the road and back in the bunker where he has his own room to sulk in, that actually has a lock. His valuable brooding time won't be disturbed. Whiskey, Netflix, or fuck it, porn, while he starts his normal routine of burying the shit out of everything and anything that he's not ready to open up about.

Just one more damn night.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean hasn't dreamed of Cas since the last time his own Castiel was there with him. Part of him is relieved but the _hunter_ part of him is going out of his mind wondering what the fuck is going on with _that_ Cas and who the hell is trying to kill him. He wants to help. He does. He thinks of Cas' idea of actually going to that dimension and he kind of wishes they could just do that now. Get it over with. Save the day, or whatever.

But he and _his_ Cas are still not talking and it's been a day now that they've been back at the bunker and nothing. Not even a good morning or a hello. He kind of misses the usual, "Hello, Dean," but he's not going to be the one to cave. Not this time. He did nothing wrong and it's Cas who needs to apologize, not him.

Evening is approaching and Dean's growing antsy, mainly due to him repressing his anger and he would really like to unload this crap off his chest, but maybe a bottle whiskey will do the trick. He heads to the kitchen where he sees Cas sitting at the table with Sam's laptop. He freezes, wondering if he should just say something. Anything.

Cas beats him to it.

"Dean. I think I've found a safe route to the other Castiel's dimension. With these calculations--"

Dean feels like being a dick, just 'cause. "Are you sure? I mean, I might end up wanting to stay so I can _fuck_ _him_ , because you know, that's all I think about."

Castiel just watches him, expressionless and closes the laptop. "I never said--"

"You said enough. I can't keep my dick in my pants, yeah I know. Not even with a completely different version of my best friend, who just so happens to have only been in my dream, you know, not even in the flesh. But I get it, I'm just a horny asshole who doesn't care about who's in danger or about to die, so long as I can get laid, right?"

"Dean, look, I'm sorry for overreacting. I think we should just analyse what we both saw so we can figure out our next step. Can you do that?"

Can he do that? Sure. But not until he's done being pissed, and the idea of getting the fuck out of the bunker never felt so good. "I'm going out, don't wait up."

He doesn't wait for Cas' response as he makes his way to the garage. He takes out his phone and texts Sam that he's going to the bar down the road for a few drinks and if he's lucky, some tail. Sam texts him back with a thumbs up and... really? No, 'be careful', or 'you want me to come with?'… just a thumb's up. Okay, fuck it.

The little bar he likes to go to unwind sometimes is run by a guy named Donnie and he's always cool to Dean, giving him free shots here and there and Dean's pretty sure there's more to his unyielding generosity, but Dean didn't come here for Donnie, he came to do what he does best: meet some bimbo, bang her at her place, or the Impala, whatever, and then never see her again.

That's what Castiel expects him to do anyway, so why not live up to his Casa Nova reputation. It's been years since he's done something like this, while in his right state of mind away (aka, not a demon) so when he sees that buxom brunette staring at him from across the bar, he can't help but nod and smile and take his place in the seat next to hers.

"You need a refresher?" Dean asks, eyeing her empty glass.

She smiles at him and Dean's not sorry he came here tonight. She's gorgeous; those lips pulling Dean in like a magnet, her eyes, soft and welcoming. And her body, damn, he's just imagining all the things he's going to do to her when he gets the chance.

She's in a tight black shirt and even tighter jeans. Casual, yet sexy as hell and when she holds out her hand and says, "Hi, I'm Amy," Dean gladly accepts it and tells her his name.

There's a brief, very brief moment when he thinks about turning away and getting the fuck out of there before he does something he regrets but he talks himself out of it.

_This is you Dean. This is what you do. Get it done._

The drinks come, one after the other, they talk about absolutely nothing interesting. The music, playing too loudly anyway to even hear half the stuff she says. He doesn't care, he just wants to get drunk enough to have the guts to finally say, "So, where are we taking this little private party?"

It's not until they're halfway to her place, which is only a block away from the bar on foot, that he realizes that he's actually getting laid tonight and he pulls out his wallet just to make sure he didn't forget his condoms. They stumble to her front door and he thinks he is way more drunk that she is, but he hasn't reached the limp dick stage. He knows exactly when to stop drinking before that happens.

She leads him up a narrow, creaking stairway and stops in front of her door, pulling out her keys and flashing Dean a mischievous smile. He could leave right now, before anything happens. He could just go back to the bar, have a few more drinks, call Sammy to pick him up because he's not stupid enough to drive drunk, and then pass out and wake up tomorrow, refreshed and _not_ full of regret and self loathing.

But she pulls him in close and whispers in his ear, "You have no idea what I am going to do to you"

And that does sometimes to his stomach and groin that he'd be almost a fool not to find out exactly what that is.

Her place is small but nice. Looking around, he takes off his coat, throwing it on her kitchen chair. He feels awkward, yeah, and he's thinking how fucking off his game he is. _Like it hasn't been that long, Dean. You have done this more times than you can count_.

But he's actually nervous and unsure of why he's even here (to get laid yeah, that) but he's really only trying to prove what to whom here? To prove to Cas that he is just a horndog with no self dignity? Or to prove to himself that he can fuck who he wants without thinking about the one person who he'd rather be with right about now.

He's screwed people while having feelings for Cas before, so this shouldn't be any different, right? Cas doesn't want him. He doesn't think of him that way. There's nothing between them, and damn Marie and her subtext, because it's not there. It's all in their heads and maybe Dean's head too. Cas is not interested, period.

He's an angel who's been attracted to a demon and a reaper (assuming she was human, but whatever), he's been married to some stranger when he thought he was Emmanuel, and yeah, Dean hasn't forgotten about that.

He's attached to Dean, sure, and he's is very aware of their profound bond, but for Cas, that's just his damn luck. He found him in Hell. He pulled him out, he branded his soul or whatever, but that doesn't mean he's in love with Dean or anything. And despite what everyone has been saying over the years to prove otherwise, it's just not how it is.

Balthazar, Meg, even damn Hester made it fucking clear that something happened to Cas when he touched him in hell. But it's not love. It's not romantic. Dean would be an idiot to think it is.

"Hello? Are you here?" she says, standing in front of her refrigerator with the door open.

"Oh yeah, sorry, uh, what was the question?" If there was one, he's thinking there must have been.

"I asked if you wanted something to drink."

He wants something non alcoholic because if he's going to go through with this, he needs to be as in control of his male parts as possible, so he asks for water. She smiles, grabbing a bottle and hands it to him.

"Sorry, I wasn't exactly expecting a guest, I don't have much to offer."

He thinks her voice sounds like commercial voice over. It's articulate, a little soft and seductive, and he can't wait to hear her say his name when he shows her just what he's good at.

"There's you and that's really all I need." He raises an eyebrow as he says that and she chuckles, removing her jacket.

"Then let's not waste any time."

Dean's on his feet so quickly, he almost knocks the chair over, and she laughs at him. He's in her face now and she kisses him hard, wrapping her arms around his neck. She tastes like whiskey and vanilla, and it's making him dizzy. He kisses her back, hungrily and feral, and he's already sporting an erection. He holds her by the waist as they walk, clumsily and lip locked to her bedroom.

He runs his hands down her arms and then underneath her shirt, lifting it off. Her breasts are huge and Dean can't help but grab them, gently, and massage them under his palms. She's moaning against his neck and falls back on the bed, pulling Dean on top of her.

He rests in between her legs and pushes down, grinding his cock against her, and hearing her gasp makes him smirk. He plants small kisses on her neck, then chest, removing her bra and running his tongue across her nipples. She's grabbing his hair, tugging and pulling, as he moves down, licking the skin above her belly and then he thumbs open the button of her jeans, pulling the zipper down.

"Yes," she moans, breathy and so goddamned hot. Dean slips her jeans off and crawls back over her body, his hand in between them as he slips it under her panties, rubbing her and … damn, she's so hot and wet. She's writhing, moaning under his touch, and Dean's proud of how well he knows how to get someone off. It's like a God given talent.

Dean's ready to get out of his clothes and fuck her right now, _he can do this, he can do this._ He sits back on his heels and begins to remove his shirt when he's drawn to her closet door, which is open. But it's not just the closet, it's what's inside. There, hanging on the inner door is a beige trenchcoat and Dean's immediately sober.

It fucking figures. He's about to get laid, finally, and of all the goddamned things she could have hanging in her closet, it has to be a coat that looks exactly like Cas'; it could be the same damn coat.

And now he sees Cas' face, his eyes looking back at him as they lie next to each other in bed. That soft smile, that is almost not even there. That tiny laugh that he does when Dean says something silly, the sound of his voice when he was reading to Dean that night, so deep and hypnotic. _Cas_.

"What's wrong?" she says, lifting herself to kiss his neck.

Dean shakes his head and looks down at her. "Uh, nothing, I uh, where's your bathroom?"

With a look of bewilderment, she says, "Second door on the right."

"Be right back. Don't go anywhere," he manages to say with a smile but he's shaking now and cursing himself for being such a fucking sentimental idiot. He washes his hands, splashes some cold water on his face and looks at himself in the mirror.

He's not horny anymore. He's not even thinking about going through with this. He's not even sure what he was thinking in the first place. There was no reason to delve back into his old ways, and to use this girl just so he could get his mind off of his best friend, who he happens to have feelings for, who he's so pissed at right now for judging him on something that happened in a dream and--

"Everything okay in there?" Amy calls out and Dean yells back that he's fine and tries to think of a thousand ways to tell her that he has to go;  _My grandma is in the hospital? My dog got hit by a car? My brother got his head stuck in the banister?_

He walks back to her room, stopping in the kitchen to grab his coat. His mind is made up and he's going to let her know, not just slip out the front door which he'd really love to do. Like _really_ love to do. He reaches her room and there she is, all hot and half naked on her bed, and he's never been so uninterested at this sight before now.

"I have to go. I'm sorry, uh, something came up." 

She just looks at him, worried and he turns to leave. She yells out something like, "see you next time", or "can I have your number", but Dean ignores it. Once he's outside, he inhales the warm June air and realizes he needs more alcohol, large quantities of it, for now he does not care about his dick going limp. Cas' coat can do that just fine.

He's halfway to the bar and he's laughing now, knowing how ridiculous it is that he's reached the point where having sex with people, other than Cas, feels wrong. It shouldn't, he and Cas don't even have anything like that with each other. They're not together, they're not a couple… so why does guilt overcome him when he tries to go there with someone else?

Hippy Cas was still Cas and even if Dean feels guilty now, he didn't then because he knew it was a dream. If he had to make a choice between screwing _that_ Cas in real life or just being close with his own Cas, in the way they've always been, he'd take the latter. It's not all about sex and that realization alone has Dean laughing even harder.

He's a sap. He knows it. He's rarely been in love and he's not saying that this thing with Cas is… _that_ , but he gets attached, no news there. He's attached to Cas and if his stupid sappy heart refuses to allow him to engage in anything with anyone, then so be it. He just better find some useful porn because he's also aware that jerking off constantly while thinking of Cas is probably going to make him even more frustrated, having to hang around him everyday knowing it will never happen.

Donnie hands him a beer with a shot of whiskey and Dean remains at that bar, ignoring the babes (and dudes) checking him out, because no, just no. There's this one guy who just won't stop staring and he kind of reminds Dean of Jerry, the first dude he ever hooked up with. Talk about awkward.

Dean was eighteen and yeah, it took that long to act on his desires for guys, and he blames that mostly on his dad and the constant, "be a man" he drilled in his head everyday and for some reason, though it makes no sense, the thought of being with another dude seemed… unmanly. At the time, anyway.

But Jerry, he was so willing to teach Dean how to cross that line and experiment with things that he'd only fantasized about on late nights while Dad was gone and Sam was asleep. He'll never forget the first time Jerry went down on him, and at that point, Dean's had plenty of blow jobs but this one… it was something special, different, because, well, it was a dude and Jerry was a good sport, even if Dean came in less than thirty seconds.

He hadn't been with as many men as women, and he had always assumed that gay men or bi men weren't as 'out' and available. Women are just always around, always spreading their legs for him, and who is he to turn that down? Unless they are completely hideous or carrying every known std there is.

From Jerry came Leo (another dude for another story), who showed Dean how to turn tricks for money. The clientele was there and because Dad was an asshole, leaving him and Sam alone for months at a time, he was pleased to find a sure fire way to make some extra dough. He was pleasantly surprised at how many men would pay him to just jerk them off, or watch him jerk off, and yeah, that happened a lot. And the women, usually older women, either divorced or bored, he'd fuck them silly until they couldn't walk straight.

They'd pay him. He'd leave. That was it.

He has no idea why he's thinking of this now, because it was really one of those fucked up parts of his life he likes to repress and forget about. Taking care of Sam was all he cared about and the things he did to do just that weren't always honorable. In fact, they rarely ever were. Pool hustling, credit card fraud, turning tricks… Dean's led a past of real sketchy behavior and he'd love, just once, to just let that part of him go.

He knows he wants more and he's not talking about a white picket fence in the middle of Bumfuck, U.S.A, but something more than the day in, day out of blood and pain, and loneliness. But the whole problem he has with seeing himself settle down, happy and content with that one person, is that his mind immediately drifts to Cas and it drives him up the fucking wall, because it's not healthy to pine over someone you can never have. He knows it. It's his goddamned motto.

But Cas… with his stupid coat, and ridiculous eyes, like, whose eyes are that blue? And he's knows it's not just Jimmy because he's seen Jimmy without the angel inside and there was no way in hell his eyes sparkled like that. And what the hell is up with his hair, is he just always trying to look adorable? God, when it gets messy, how it looks in the morning… oh yeah and that light five o'clock shadow that he always has, like always, and the way his lips pucker before he's about to say something, and he can't forget the way he says his name. " _Hello, Dean." "Dammit Dean."_

Someone tugs his arm and Dean snaps it back and wearily looks up to see Cas, of all people, standing next to him. "Dean, I've come to take you home."

Dean starts laughing, unsure if he's already passed out and he's dreaming or if he's seriously seeing shit. He almost slips off the bar stool before Cas grabs him by the shoulder and straightens him out.

"Thanks, Donnie," is all Dean hears Cas say as he lifts Dean out of his seat, and no, he doesn't want to go yet. There's more booze to be drunk, fun to be had. He pulls Cas' arm and stops dead in his tracks.

"No, Cas. I wanna stay. Leave me alone," Dean says, words slurring so badly, he's not even sure he's coherent. But Cas ignores him, throwing Dean's arm over his shoulder, and helping him out of the bar to Sam's car.

Dean's arguing, saying things he isn't sure makes sense as Cas tosses him into the back seat, face first, and slams the rear door. Dean starts laughing again when Cas starts the car and he flips over to his back.

"You taking me home, Cas? Like, metaphorically? Am I gonna get lucky tonight?"

Cas doesn't answer him and it's clear he's not giving into Dean's drunken blabber when he turns on the radio and has the volume up loud enough to drown Dean out. He recognizes Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovi and starts singing along, and okay, not really singing, more like shouting.

" _We've got to hold on to what we've got_ …, come on Cas! _It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not!"_

Dean's laughing as he tries to keep up with the lyrics, " _We've got each other and that's a lot for love. We'll give it a shot! Woooooah we're halfway there, WOOAH OOH, living on a praaaaayer!_ Hear that Cas? I'm praying to you!"

The music stops abruptly and Dean's aware that Cas turned off the radio. "Oh come on, you're such a tightwad."

The next thing he knows, he's being thrown down on a mattress "Oh Cas, you like taking charge, don't you?"

He thinks he says it aloud but he can't be sure. He has no idea how he even got here, unable to remember leaving the car at all. He feels his feet being tugged and oh, his boots are off now, nice. He wiggles his toes in his socks. Blankets are being thrown over him and then his light turns off.

"Wait, Cas. Wait." Dean leans up on his elbows looking at Cas in the doorway. Or trying to as the room spins. "Stay."

Castiel rolls his eyes and sighs. "No." He turns to leave and slams the door closed.

"Fine then," Dean grumbles as his face hits the pillow and passes out.

 

* * *

 

"I'm so sorry, Cas."

Blood is everywhere and the room seems to be darkening around him. He slowly rises to his feet and makes a run to the kitchen, opening drawers, frantically in search of a knife, or he'd even take a damn egg beater at this point.

The shadow in the distance is getting close, ominous footsteps taking their time to him, but it seems with each step the figure is unrealistically closer to him. He just has to find a weapon, something to use against this thing to buy himself some time to figure out how in the hell he's going to kill it.

He can feel the electricity in the air and suddenly his arm aches. He looks down, panicking about the resemblance in feeling when he had the mark but his arm's bare and he sighs briefly. A loud crash of thunder makes him jump and a quick flash of lightning bounces off of the figure moving toward him. It looks human.

_He can kill humans…_

It's just too damn dark and Dean's trying to find his way around the kitchen, and what the hell does Cas cook with? There are not even forks in here. He spots a cast iron skillet on the stove and okay, that's heavy and should at least knock out this person until Dean finds something a little more fatal to use.

Lightning, thunder, wind blowing against his face, the curtains whipping violently around the room, and the shadow is almost near him when he hears a loud crashing noise from the other room. He looks in the direction to the sound and sees someone else there but it's still too dark to make anything out.

"Hello?" Dean calls out.

He's suddenly thrown to his back and when he looks up, the figure is above him, but he still can't see his face. As lightning hits, he swears he gets a glimpse of his eyes but then he's back in his room, staring at the ceiling in a cold sweat.

Images of the dream nag at him but he's not sure what has him more disturbed: the nightmares or the fact that he really fucked up last night. He remembers the bar, too much whiskey, some chick with big breasts named Amy, and a message from God in the form of a trenchcoat. Oh yeah and then Cas showing up and taking him home.

Fuck, he barely remembers the ride home.

Suddenly, he can hear loud music coming from somewhere in the bunker so Dean rolls out of bed and looks down at himself, still in his clothes from last night. He growls as he steps into his slippers, head pounding and the music is just irritating the shit out him.

When he opens the door, it's even louder, _Joan Jett?_ and he's squinting from the bright lights of the hallway, _and when the hell did they put in a million-watt light bulbs?_ He makes his way to the main room where Sam and Cas are… cleaning? This is not something he sees everyday.

"Really, Sam? You know I'm trying to sleep, right? And when the hell did you install speakers in here?"

Sam looks up when Dean closes Sam's laptop, ending the music abruptly. "Last March and right, sorry. I forgot you got wasted _again_ last night. My bad," He rolls his eyes, "But this place isn't gonna clean itself and Cas here offered to help, so…"

"I suggested a maid, didn't I?" Dean turns on his heels avoiding the second eyeroll of the morning and heads to the kitchen for much needed caffeine and something to eat to help soak up his stomach full of whiskey.

Coffee, oh still warm. Wait, are those eggs and bacon still on the stove and kept warm for him? Really? Wow, what did he do to deserve such a treat?

"I wanted you awake and sober for our much needed conversation," he hears Cas say from the threshold. "So eat up."

Dean eyes the food and then glances at Cas. "You made this?"

"I did."

He's frozen, unsure what to even think or say. Cas cooked… for him? Cas moves Dean aside and makes him a plate, handing it to him with a smile. "Sam told me how to, and I just did it. Surprised?"

Dean accepts the plate and grabs a fork, eyeing the scrambled eggs _and are those peppers?_ He sits down and his stomach is growling so loudly now, so he digs in, almost passing out at how good it is.

"This is… fucking delicious," Dean says with his mouth full. 

"Glad you like it." Cas joins Dean at the table and watches him eat, making Dean look up at him a few times. He looks content, proud even, of his successful eggs and bacon breakfast, and that's a really good look for him.

"So, conversation?"

Dean's stomach flips but he knew it was coming and it has to be done and if Cas is the one to initiate it, then fine. Great actually, since Dean's been fighting off being the one to.

"I'm aware of the obvious tension between us and I do feel that we need to discuss what happened the other day, but that's not what I want to talk about now."

Dean swallows. "Oh? Then what?"

"I mentioned to you last night before you went out to… that I may have found a way to travel to that dimension. Do you remember that?"

Dean nods, sipping his coffee. Yes, he remembers he was a dick to Cas too and oops. "Yeah, look, sorry about what I said--"

"Another time." Cas waves his hand and inhales deeply. "Do you remember the sigil Balthazar used to send you to that place?"

"Yeah, I mean, I don't remember it exactly but I'm sure we can find it."

"We don't need that one, but I did find one that's similar and should work. The tricky part is that I need you to tell _that_ Cas to make one as well. They have to be identical and… in your blood."

"Okay, it's not like I haven't bled for the greater good before," Dean says, with a wink.

"Have you… dreamed of him lately?" Cas asks, looking away.

"No. But I'm sure I will and I'll tell him what to do. So, uh, maybe you should draw the sigil so I can try and memorize it, to draw it for him in the dream?"

"It has to be exact, Dean. Not one line or marking can be off."

"Okay, I have a photographic memory, thought you knew that by now." Dean grins wide.

"If you're sure, then I will start drawing it out."

If the coffee kicked in already, which it really hasn't, Dean would be freaking out right about now. Interdimensional travel, he's actually going to be doing that and he's not even sure what in the hell will happen or what he'll find there, but damn, he should have his own tv series staring him, Dean: the time hopping, parallel universe travelling man. He's pretty sure there's already a show like that.

"You said my blood and his, but what about yours?"

"What about mine?"

"You're coming with me, aren't you? Don't you have to offer your blood too?"

"I-I wasn't planning on it."

Dean pushes the now empty plate away from him and crosses his arms, wondering why the fuck Cas would not be coming with him. There has to be a better reason other than he's just that pissed. "Why? You're going to send me there alone?"

"That was the plan, yes."

"But--"

"He's contacting _you._ He pulls _you_ into his dreams. It seems this is something _you_ must do. The connection… it will guarantee success. There's no reason for me to be there."

"Except maybe to help? Watch my back?" Dean leans in. "Cas, you're talking about sending me to another goddamned dimension. Even when you sent me back in time, you were there… and then you both were there the second round. I had Sam when Balthazar… Cas, you can't make me do this alone."

"You were alone the time you were sent to 2014. Even though it's placed now in another universe from ours, your existence is still prominent. You touched people's lives, even if it was only for a brief moment. Your essence is recognized there. Mine isn't."

"Except that you are actually there, Cas. Just a different version."

Cas sits back in his chair and tilts his head. "I wasn't planning on it, Dean. I think you're more than capable of handling this on your own."

Dean grunts as he finishes the last of his coffee and leans in on his elbows, looking Cas straight in the eyes.

"Is this about…" He rubs his hands together, in front of him. "Cas, it's not my fault that he pulled me into his dreams. What we did… I knew it was a dream. It wasn't like I thought it was real or anything, and why the fuck are you judging me about it?"

Cas' cheeks blush and he's doing a real bad job at hiding his emotional reaction to what Dean just said. "I would never judge you, Dean."

"Really? Cuz saying shit like 'you don't know most of the people you bang' is kinda saying I fuck anything that moves, including your double, who happens to be in another goddamned dimension."

"I never suggested you  _bang anything that moves,_ Dean. I was just pointing out the fact that you do not, in fact, know most of the people you sleep with and I only said it because you used the excuse of barely knowing him as to why you wouldn't."

Cas and his damn logic. "Okay, Spock, so there are about a million reasons why I wouldn't and I just didn't feel like listing each and every one of them that night. You happy?"

They stare at each other, silently, as they do best. He knew that night was a great huge misunderstanding and part of him should have squashed it then, but he wanted to pissed at Cas and the only reason he can think of as to why, is that he's annoyed at him. It's not the angel's fault but Dean can only take so much blatant disinterest him before he gets bitter, resentful, and he knows how stupid and childish it is, but it's just something that happens. On occasion.

He also takes it hard, like _too hard_  when he assumes that Cas thinks low of him. He wants to look good in his eyes, and Sam's. He doesn't want them to think he's a piece of shit, low life that he sometimes -more often than he wishes - thinks of himself.

"You want me there."

Okay did they just resolve this or? "Yes. One hundred percent yes."

"Okay, fine. Then we'll make the sigil with our blood combined. We'll have Sam stay here to ensure us getting back out."

"Wait, what? Why?"

"He will need to activate the sigil we made to get us back home."

Dean sighs and this has just become the worst idea they've ever had. "So-"

"So until you are able to contact _that_ Cas and let him know the plans, we wait. In the meantime, I will draw up the sigil for you to memorize and Dean, this is serious so please, no whiskey."

"And if I do see Cas, when do I tell him this plan's a go?"

"If you dream of him tonight, tell him we will do it at sundown tomorrow which will be exactly," Cas stares at the ceiling, "8:25 pm."

So this is it. They're going to actually travel to that Cas' existence and try and save him. This is beyond crazy, even for Dean but it's all too coincidental that the Darkness has been erasing the barriers between dimensions and that's when Cas reaches out for him. It all has to mean something. A bigger picture. And he'd be lying if he said he wasn't scared about what that might be.


	7. Chapter 7

Nothing on Netflix interests him right now, he's not in the mood to jerk off, he's feeling like a complete asshole for last night, and now he's sulking in his room and hopes he will be able to just fall asleep sometime this decade and hopefully see Cas. He also wishes his own Cas would be with him right now, you know, just 'cause. No special reason…

He puts his headphones on and lays back on his pillow to the soothing sounds of Bob Seger's _Against the Wind_ thinking about the times he'd blast this album in the Impala and he's right back to 2008, the year he knew he was going to Hell, driving non stop to a case with Sammy. He remembers thinking, "how will Sam take care of his baby? Will he continue to hunt? Will he say fuck it and go back to Stanford? Will he blast through every crossroad demon there is to get him back?"

And then the inevitable day came, judgement day, when Dean was dragged to the pit. He rarely lets himself think of that time, the horror, the torture doesn't even compare to how undeniably scared he was. Scared of the things they were going to do to him, of what he might become, of Alistair and his sick fucking twisted pleasure in inflicting and receiving pain.

Dean was abused in every sense of the word. Demons ripping him apart, slicing him to shreds, abusing him when there was nothing left to do, and then starting it all over, day after day, shaping him into the worst kind of thing. More grotesque and frightening than that mark ever made him, and a hell of a lot worse than when he was an actual demon.

No, this was Dean, his soul just mere pieces of what he used to be, molded into a monster and breaking the first damn seal.

 _Righteous man._ He has to laugh. Sure he saved people, did things that most folks could pat him on the back for, but righteous? Dean would look in the mirror and try to convince himself that what he does is heroic, brave but deep down he always felt like a failure. He doesn't think that anyone has every made him question it more than Cas.

_"You don't think you deserve to be saved."_

That statement spoke volumes and it was the first time Dean ever had someone call him out on it. Sure, Bobby had torn him a new one here and there, bitching to him about his low self worth, but it was this sentence here from Cas, that made him realize that he really didn't think he deserved to be saved, and by an angel at that.

An angel that would come into his life and turn it around. Who would show him that he did deserve it, despite the thing he had become down there. Cas knew, he saw it all, not even Sam was aware of the terrible things Dean did down there. And the word _terrible_ puts it lightly.

But Cas didn't see a monster in Dean. He saved him, and made sure Dean understood that he was worth all of it. Cas rebelled. Turned his back on the family he's known for his entire existence, all because of Dean. Dean struggles to this very day about that, and does find himself at the low end of his own worth, where he starts to doubt he's ever been good enough for Cas.

But then Cas reminds him at times that he'd do it over again, make the same choices, and doesn't regret a thing. He'd give up Heaven… and he has… for Dean.

That's gotta do stuff, and not just in the usual way where someone realizes how much they've actually lost, but that has to show everyone, on some level, how important they are to each other. Dean, who refused to leave Purgatory and spent a goddamned year there, despite having a way out, was not going to leave without his angel.

And it's no surprise why he began to have feelings like this. Why his platonic and romantic wiring starting to get crossed. Why he suddenly had realized, years ago, that Cas was not only in his heart as a friend, but as something else. Something eternal. Someone who Dean would gladly take into his arms and never let go.

It's a dangerous thing, to give someone that much. Cas betrayed him, broken his heart more times than he'd like to remember, all because Dean gave him parts of himself that he'd never given anyone. He let his guard down, opened up, silently telling Cas to take it, take his heart, it's his.

But Cas was careless and it took Dean a long time to recover from his betrayal with Crowley, and then the fucked up angel tablet incident. But Dean did get over it, eventually, yet remained reserved. He and Cas grew apart, and he wasn't so gung ho about letting Cas inside again, but he never stopped feeling what he felt, what he _feels_ for him. It's always there and it never leaves, never weakens, or goes away. If anything, it just grows each day and what the fuck is he going to do with that?

Two people in his life have the capability to ruin him forever. Cas and Sam. But he has to trust them now more than ever, because now, none of them are under some mind control, curse, possession, or demon blood. They're all of their own agency and that's gotta give Dean a chance to not only makes things right, but to also let himself trust again. Let his brother take control over things more and let Cas have his heart again. Even if it's only one sided.

His eyes are heavy now and he's happy to finally be tired enough to fall asleep. He's memorized the sigil Cas drew out and has it next to him for safekeeping. See Cas, give him the design, tell him the plans. He just hopes it's not the dream where he's too late.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Dean!" Cas calls out, running to him. "I've missed you. Sorry I haven't been bringing you here, my dreams started to get a little weird after you and my counterpart left."

Dean heads into the cabin, through the annoying bead door where Cas is standing in the middle of the room in his usual get up, his jeans that are too big for him, white linen shirt that hangs off of his body. He smiles at Dean and he's so relieved this isn't the other kind of dream where he has to watch him die.

"Weird, like how?"

"You don't want to know. Hungry?"

Dean's in front of Cas now and he's looking around the cabin for something to write with. "Look, before it slips my mind, I need to draw something for you. You got a pen? Pencil? Paper?"

"Uh sure," Cas says, furrowing his brow. He skips off into his bedroom and comes out with a marker and a notepad. "Will this work?"

"Yup."

Dean takes the items and drops to his knees, setting the paper on the coffee table and begins drawing the sigil from memory. His hands are shaking a bit, causing him to curse under his breath, nervous he's going to mess it up.

He practiced drawing it dozens of times before he went to bed, matching Cas' exact design, he just hopes his subconscious doesn't tweak it somehow.

"What is it?" Cas asks, leaning over Dean.

After Dean's done and he's satisfied, he looks up at Cas and exhales the nerves he had bottled up. "This is a sigil that will bring me and Cas here, _actually_ here, to you. Not in dreamland. But-"

Cas lowers himself to his knees and has a look of utter shock on his face. "You're- you guys are coming here? For me?"

"Yes."

"And this sigil… tell me what I have to do."

Dean sighs, relieved that Cas is on board with this, not that he wouldn't be, but he never knows with Cas. His Cas anyway.

"Draw this in your blood, somewhere it won't be disturbed and we're gonna do the same from our dimension. When you do it, we'll be sent here, to you."

"Okay. When."

"Tomorrow at sunset. 8:25pm."

Cas sits back on his heals and sighs a long dramatic sigh. "Not that I don't appreciate you two helping, but how exactly do you plan on… _helping?"_

"Don't know yet," Dean smiles. "We just know something is after you and it's probably coming through the breaks in the barriers between dimensions."

"Oh that makes sense," Cas whispers, looking upward.

Dean smiles, slightly as he rises to his feet. "Okay, so tomorrow then."

"Yes."

Cas also stands and walks slowly to Dean, a sly smile making him appear so damn seductive. _Where the hell did he learn that?_

"Aren't you gonna stay? Maybe just for a little while?"

His hands run down Dean's arms, gripping tightly when he reaches his wrists and Dean just looks down at him, now feeling guilty but he has no idea why. It's a dream. He has tons of sex with many people in his dreams, why would this make him feel like shit?

 _Oh right_.

"I should go, or uh, wake up."

"It's him, isn't it?"

 _What ever gave you that idea?_ "What?"

"He's jealous. It makes sense. He would be, of course. Even though this is still just a dream, he was here, he saw… it's more real to him."

Dean opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Cas continues, "And you're loyal to him. Knowing that us being intimate upsets him, it makes it different for you now."

"Wait, why would Cas be jealous? Of you?"

Cas laughs with his head thrown back and looks at Dean, shaking his head. "Really?"

"He was just disgusted, like with my behavior. Thinking I screw anything that moves and in your case, it was more important to figure out what's been after you then rolling around in the sheets but I, uh--"

Cas' laugh dies down a bit but he's still smiling wide. "Is that what he told you?"

"Well, no, not exactly." Now Dean's trying to remember the exact conversation and Cas' reaction, his facial expressions, and… _what was that?_

Cas turns on his heel and plops down on the couch, lifting his legs to rest his feet on the coffee table. Dean wants to stay and continue this conversation because now he's really interested to hear what _this_ Cas' opinion on the whole thing is. He _is_ Castiel after all, he knows him better than anyone. Did Dean read Cas wrong? Was Cas actually jealous? If so, then what in the hell could that mean?

"Why would he be--"

"Well, it's not for me to say, but I think you two need to talk."

"Okay but--"

"I would love for you to stay, trust me. You have no idea the things I'd like to… but you should go to your Cas. It's what I… it's what I would have wanted."

Dean stands, frozen as his mind thinks of a million different ways to confront Castiel, his Castiel, and all of it makes him want to run and hide. He's no good at this, at all. In fact, he sucks at these awkward talks where one is forced to reveal something that he or she may not be ready to reveal.

"8:25 p.m. Tomorrow night. See you then."

Dean is about to tell him goodbye but he wakes up in his room, headphones still on, and Bob Seger still playing. He hops out of bed, races to the main room where Cas is seated with a book. He looks up at Dean, expressionless.

"Did you--"

"Yes."

There's a moment of silence between them before Sam enters, holding a smoothie, making the most obnoxious sucking sound. "Hey guys, what's up?"

The next hour they spend going over the plans for tomorrow. Dean's a little taken aback that he and Cas are going to be staying in that dimension for three days. He said that's the usual time until the sigil will be able to activated again to bring them home.

Three days in that place. Like last time…

He fades in and out as Cas gives Sam the instructions on getting them home. He's not going to deny the fact that he's a bit nervous. He has no idea what 'erasing the barriers between dimensions' actually means, and he's sure if Cas broke it down for him, it might as well be in Greek.

But he'll be with Castiel. His angel and protector. Somehow he knows that everything will be okay as long as he's by his side.

"... we should be able to close it temporarily, almost like putting a seal over a crack in the wall."

Dean turns to Cas. "The barrier?"

"Yes. We don't know for sure that whatever is after _your_ Castiel will show, so in that case, we can seal it to prevent it from returning."

"He's not… _my_ Castiel," Dean barks because that's all Dean heard from that.

"I was only saying--"

Sam coughs to get their attention. "Look guys, I think this plan is crazy but whatever, if it helps then I'm all for it, but both of you really need to stow your crap if you want to make it out of there alive."

Dean and Cas share a look before Dean rolls his eyes. "Okay, whatever. Just get us home."

He rises and heads to his room, still feeling the sleepiness from before and knowing it's the middle of the night, his body is craving more shut eye.

He doesn't think Cas, _that_ Cas, will bring him into his dreams anymore, knowing they'll be going there in just one day. He's sort of relieved, having the guilt of a lover who has been fantasizing about someone else and it's all just ridiculous, he knows. It's not even another. It's still Cas. Same eyes, same lips, same… body. Hair, okay a little different, but it's still Cas' hair, smile, and why is he even trying to justify it if they're not even together.

Jealousy. He said Cas was jealous…

"Dean."

He hears the familiar gravely voice from behind him as he's entering his room. Turning around to face him, he fights the temptation to ask him why he was really upset. Why did his mood change when Dean told him the truth about the dreams? Time and place, and Dean is well aware that now is neither.

"Cas," Dean says as he tugs the sheets, pulling them down so he could crawl under them.

"I think we should discuss our plans, what we will do once we're there."

Cas moves to the edge of the bed and is staring down at Dean. Dean's stomach flips and okay, he really doesn't want this tension between them anymore, he wants to just be normal, back as they were. Friends goofing around, talking about whatever. He's about to go to another goddamned dimension with him, the least he can do is take the stick out of his ass.

"Sure. Sit."

Cas takes his seat on the edge of the bed at Dean's feet. Dean props himself up, resting his back on the headboard and folds his arms. He's still reserved, sure, but he knows better than to start up anything now, the day before their trip.

"The first thing we need to do is find the tear, the split where this threat is able to come through."

"Like that portal in Purgatory?" Dean cringes.

Cas' hand letting go of his before falling back into the dirt. The portal closing and he still feels the ghost of Cas' fingers around his wrist. He spent months, _months_ grieving for him. He had one mission in that godforsaken place, and that was to find the angel. His angel. And Cas just let go…

"Dean?"

"Huh? What?"

"I said, yes, It's similar to the one in Purgatory and I asked if you had any clue where it could be in that existence." Cas is watching him, concern in his eyes.

"Oh, uh, well, when Zach zapped me there, it was in the same motel I was already in. Smack dab in the city."

"Kansas City."

"Yeah. Then I left. I went to Chitaqua."

Cas strokes his chin. "We can ask your… the other Cas when we arrive. He might know of an area with displaced energy. He's not an angel anymore but that doesn't mean he can't sense things, feel things, for his essence is still celestial."

Dean nods. "Yeah, he was able to tell I was from another timeline when I first arrived there."

"Right. Makes sense."

"Cas, when you were human, were you still able to pick up on things like that?"

Castiel sighs, placing his hands in front of him. "I think so, more or less. It was like a heightened awareness, a little more than what humans contain. I would have been able to tell if you were from another place in time, yes."

"How does that work? I mean, if you're not an angel, just curious."

"Well," Cas lies down, leaning on his elbow and supports his head with his hand. Dean swallows, allowing himself to indulge in just how cute his angel looks.

"When we fall from grace, our essence is still ours, we just don't have the powers and abilities as we once had. It's like your soul is yours no matter what. So I have memories of how things worked as an angel, and can apply it but only with human limitations."

Dean frowns. "So, that's how you can tell if someone is a demon or from another timeline?"

"Yes, it's very similar to yours and Sam's intuition, feelings about things you're familiar with. Mine is not just limited to familiarity but more a memory of what I knew and used to see."

And this is getting cooler by the minute. "That's pretty awesome. Even as a human, you aren't powerless. I mean, your awareness is above most humans."

"Powerless, no? Unable to heal you or revive? Yes. It's a very different feeling, Dean, to be at the mercy of mortality. Yours and mine."

"Welcome to the club." Dean smirks.

"Yes, because you are so successful at dying."

Dean laughs, and this is good. He can do this. "Same to you, buddy. How many times have you died?"

Castiel looks up to the ceiling, mouthing words to himself. "Twice?"

"Three times. Remember the reaper? I had Zeke or uh, Gadreel revive you."

"What?" Cas' eyes grow wide. "You told me you made a deal with the reaper."

"I lied."

Dean notices a smile creep up on Cas' face and it makes him smile as well. That was another fucked up time they can add to their shit list.

"Because I couldn't know about Sam."

"Mm-hmm."

"Good times," Cas says, mimicking Dean's phrase he uses all too often and almost always sarcastically.

"Careful, you're starting to sound like me?"

Castiel chuckles, and it's doing a thousand and one things to Dean, he has to look away, fearing that the 'angel who can sense things with or without his powers' is right here on his bed. In fact, he's with tons of mojo, lying down, his head now resting on his hands as he stares at the ceiling. Dean's eyes roam to his tie and how it hangs off to the side, now a blue and white striped one, and whatever did happen to his old stuff?

He'd ask but Cas probably had a change of wardrobe when he became human back then and then he had to find a whole new outfit when he was charged up again. Funny how he goes for the similar tax accountant look. It suits him though.

He glances at his shirt that's fitted perfectly to his body. His waistline with a belt that looks more expensive than Dean's entire wardrobe. His black slacks that are a perfect size, unlike his old outfit - the Jimmy outfit that hung off of him, always appearing to be one size too big.

Cas looks comfortable in his skin. He likes how he looks, and really, so does Dean. He also likes watching him remove his clothes but he won't go there, not now. He feels his face flush when Cas glances at him, his eyes are warm, calm, and Dean really does love it.

"What is it?" Cas asks him, bringing Dean back down to earth.

"What is what?"

"You're staring at me, looking at me oddly. Is there something on my clothes?"

Cas lifts his head to look down at himself, brushing his hand across his chest and moving his tie to the side, inspecting his shirt.

"No, no, was just kinda thinking… in my own little world."

He wonders how he looks to him, because he's so bad at hiding what's on his mind half the time. When Cas catches him staring him down, or focusing on his lips as they talk, or when Dean becomes flustered when Cas forgets what personal space is and really, Dean is not complaining about that anymore.

It has to be obvious. Cas has to know how he feels. Is he really Captain Oblivious? If he was able to tell that Dean was off, not from the same timeline, knew he had the goddamned mark of Cain before he even had to tell him, how in the hell does Cas not know that he thinks about him all the time, and would love to know how it feels to kiss him, have his body close, feel his heat, even if it was just once.

Once would never be enough, though. It would become Dean's damn drug. A good and holy drug.

"About what? Our trip tomorrow?"

 _Sure that works._ "Uh, yeah. Kinda nervous about it, actually."

"That's understandable. But don't be. I'll be with you and I won't let anything happen to you."

And there it is again, his angel watching over him. His angel who'd do anything to protect him, save him, keep him from harm. Who had even fallen to protect him. _Ah Cas. How could I not fall for you when you've fallen for me so many times?_

"I was contemplating my own TV series, with how many times I time travel or dimension hop."

Castiel smiles, turning on his side now, facing Dean. "Imagine if you were an angel. We do it, _did_ it all the time. Just a flap of the wings and…" He looks down, his face now long, sad.

 _Shit_.

"We'll figure out how to fix your wings, Cas. I promise."

"It's not important. There are more pressing matters." They make eye contact and Dean almost bites his tongue.

"Hey, are you kidding? Of course it is. We're all still trying to find that dick Metatron and Sam will be doing just that when we're gone."

"Right, but," Cas sighs. "It's not my top priority."

Dean inhales, lowering himself to lay sideways like Cas. "I know. God forbid you think of yourself, like ever. So while you think of all the other things that are so much more important, Sam and I will work on the things that _we_ feel are most important, and that's you."

Dean's face ignites. He didn't even mean for that to come out as sappy as it did, but he sees Cas smile, his face lighting up, so yeah, okay, it was worth it. Just to see that look.

There are so many expressions Cas has despite being so reserved sometimes. Dean can name them all, even the subtle ones, because he pays attention. After so many years, he's come to know and love all of Cas' looks and this one here, right now, he has stored away in his own personal photo album in his head.

"Thanks, Dean."

Are they back to where they were? No. There's still a lot to get through and this latest thing, Dean's aware that it needs to be addressed but they don't have to do it right now. Now, they can just lie here and talk, hopefully about more pleasant things and someday soon they'll tackle the issues they have.

Dean wants to, he really does. There's one thing Dean can't stand, and that is misunderstandings, miscommunication, and weird feelings. Aside from the incident that happened between them while he was under the mark of Cain (which he has to remember to really get Cas to open up about it, now knowing it still bothers him), to all the other crap between them, they've done a good job at sweeping almost everything under the rug and that has to stop.

"I just hope this trip of ours works out, for all of us. We save Cas, get home, and finally get back to business."

"He pulled you into his dreams for a reason. He knew you could help. I see no reason why we should fail, unless something goes wrong with the sigils."

"Or the thing hunting him shows up before we can seal the tear…"

"Or that," Cas says with a slight smile. "You go in fearing the worst, you won't be confident. Just know we'll pull through. Don't we always?"

Except when you feel the need to repent and stay behind, and okay, he has to stop thinking about that. For fuck's sake, he holds on to shit longer than a scorned wife. He really needs to practice what he preaches about grudges.

"Yes, that we do."

He watches Cas stretch out. _Damn, that's really sexy._ He bends forward and slides off of the bed. Dean's almost about to ask him to stay, relax, maybe sleep in here if he should desire… but Cas heads for the door.

"It's late and I'm actually pretty tired. Goodnight, Dean."

Dean sits up. "Is it weird being at half power?"

Cas nods, looking around the room. "At times. It could be worse. At least I have you two and this bunker." He smiles before leaving and he shuts the door behind him.

It makes Dean somewhat satisfied that Cas isn't alone. He's not trying to fix crap in Heaven. He's actually here with him and Sam, and that's pretty awesome. And here, like in Dean's room just a few seconds ago, sprawled out on his bed, stretching and…

Now he's imagining crawling on top of him, as Cas lies on his back, oblivious to how fucking hot he looks, and Dean resting his thigh between Cas' legs, kissing his neck, as he slowly removes his tie. He can hear Cas moaning, softly when Dean pushes his thigh against Cas' semi hard cock. Fuck, he wants him so badly.

Cas grabbing him, maybe running his fingers through his hair, pulling him down for another kiss, hard, passionate, hungry… Dean's thrusting now, thigh against cock, and when Cas can't take it anymore, he flips them over, taking his place on top of Dean, finally removing his tie and begins to work on his shirt. He tosses both onto the floor and slips Dean's shirt up so effortlessly as Dean raises his arms to let him.

Then chest to chest, skin to skin, Cas is in between Dean's legs, grinding. Dean's so hard, so fucking hard. He feels Cas undoing his belt, his zipper comes down, jeans come off, underwear, a mere memory now, and Cas' tongue is all over him, his chest, stomach, moving down, lower.

_I want you so bad. So fucking bad._

Every lick, kiss, sends a million jolts through Dean, and he feels like… like Cas' tongue is actually on the tip of his cock right now, swirling around, and then taking him in. His hot mouth surrounding him, sucking, begging for him to fill him up.

_Jesus Christ, Cas. How is this so real?_

And he can almost see Cas, pausing to look up at him. _I love you, Dean._

The world slips away and it's just them, in bed, and how can Dean feel Cas so close like this ? He's right here… right here… He's taking Dean in his mouth again and shit, it's too good, too mind blowing.

"Cas," Dean whispers, wanting to tell him the same, how he feels, what he means to him, but it's impossible. The words can't escape his mouth.

Cas is here with him, pleasuring him, loving him.

He's crawling up Dean's body, nuzzling his face against Dean's neck. Dean's wrapping his arms around him, squeezing his angel, kissing his cheek, his head, moving his face to kiss his lips. His body: perfect, so perfect how it feels against Dean's. The muscles, soft skin, flawless beauty, all his. All for him to embrace. To love.

Cas is out of his pants, determined to find that right spot on top of Dean and yeah, there it is. Cas is moving now, grinding against Dean. Each thrust bringing Dean closer, closer…

Dean's coming with Cas, both panting and moaning, warm liquid spreading between them. Foreheads are touching, air escaping only to be inhaled by the other, and when green meets blue, time stops.

_God Cas, if you only knew._

Dean opens his eyes and grunts at all the come on his stomach. "Fuck," Dean says to himself. He swore he'd stop fantasizing about Cas but when he had to come in here and lay across the bed like that, what the fuck was Dean supposed to do? His body is just reacting, it's not really up to him what gets him off.

And how the fuck was that so goddamned tangible? He could have sworn to have felt it, the heat, wetness of Cas' mouth, the energy flowing through him like they were actually in bed together. He felt… Cas. He felt him. But that's impossible.

Right?

Rolling out of bed, he decides a shower would be best to clean himself up. He leaves his room and brushes by Sam who's eyeing him curiously. "Can't sleep?"

Dean shakes his head. "Just need a shower."

"At 4 a.m.?"

Dean turns to him before entering the bathroom. "Yeah, it's never too early or too late to clean yourself," Dean says with a smirk.

He removes his t-shirt that's now sticking to him due to his recent activity and throws it on the floor, along with the rest of his clothes, and turns on the shower. When he steps inside, he stills, letting the water hit him for a few minutes, lost in thought, or millions of thoughts to be more accurate.

He remembers a time when Cas was this enigma wrapped in a tax accountant suit. He had come into Dean's life with such determination, such a fierce obligation to fulfill his holy missions, then what happened?

When Cas fell, when he rebelled, his fighting became his own. _He_ became his own, without Heaven barking orders, scaring him into submission, and yeah Dean remembers all too well when they whisked him away because he was getting too close to him.

Too close… Cas was evolving, but he was never really a good fit up there. Dean knew it as soon as he met the other angels, that Cas never was one of them. Samandriel said Cas had too much heart, and he was right. For beings that lack certain equipment to feel, Cas did, he does.

Sometimes, he'd look at Dean this certain way, with a well of emotion behind his eyes, and fuck Dean if he wasn't smitten already, and it was when those blue eyes would fill with unshed tears. It was the emotion that all the other angels criticized him for.

They beat him, tortured him, made fun of him, all for being who he is. Not a bad damn bone in his body. Not one. Everything he's ever done was with good intentions. Every damn thing. And now he's a part of a team that has unleashed hell on earth, and Dean has to shake his head.

He thinks of Purgatory, Naomi, Metatron, Cas losing his wings, Sam and the trials, Gadreel, Kevin, Charlie… his mind is reeling now, and he's getting pretty tired of the shit that just keeps piling up in their lives.

He should regret stopping Sam that day in the church, preventing him from closing the gates of Hell. But he doesn't. He doesn't feel bad for choosing Sam's life, wanting Sam to live, instead of doing something that probably would have been a hell of a good thing for the rest of the world.

He doesn't feel guilty and that fact alone scares Dean. He's supposed to be a hero. A person who kills the bad guys, protects the innocent, and he would give it all up just to make sure his brother is okay. What the hell kind of hero is that?

Dean knows how selfish he is. It's actually one of his less irritating traits, according to some. Save the world? Sure. But is the world more important than his brother? Well, no. It's not. Of course, Sam sees it the other way, he's the real hero. He'd do anything to save Dean but he wouldn't have made that same call. He would have let Dean close the gates and die along with it.

And if Dean didn't die, Sam sure as hell wouldn't have tricked him into angel possession.

So without guilt driving Dean, he knew he still had to make up for his mistakes. Getting the mark of Cain was supposed to do just that. Fuck his life, because it made it a fuckton worse.

That curse still rises the bile in Dean's stomach when he thinks about it. He had two people living inside of him for two goddamned years and it had been the first time, ever in his entire life, he contemplated suicide.

No one knew. No one but that mirage of Benny, who he guesses was his own mind anyway. But there were many nights, too many, that Dean sat on the edge of the bed wanting to eat a bullet, or impale himself with the first blade. And that would have been yet another failure, for the mark doesn't let the bearer die. He would have returned to the black eyes and then it wouldn't have mattered because he wouldn't have given a rat's ass what happened after that.

Being a demon was strange. He was still him; his thoughts, his memories, but he just didn't care about anything. Not fully. Sex wasn't even that good, he barely felt anything. Babes, dudes, all wanting a piece of him, like it was any other day, and all Dean wanted to do was howl at the moon, as Crowley put it.

So even if Dean wanted to end himself back then, he couldn't. Not unless another bearer of the mark took him down as a demon, and that person at the time was Cain. He never took it further than a fleeting thought, though. He wanted to fight, he really did. Giving up seemed too… easy. He knew there had to be a way and if not, he'd do all he could to make sure he'd somehow control himself.

But that fateful day with Cain told another story. It showed him how lost he really could become. Yet he didn't get fully rabid, though. He still had his wits when he summoned Death to take him out. With Cain gone, there was only Death and after what he had done, to Cas, Rudy, and that teenager, he knew it was time. Fighting the mark was over. It almost won and if Dean didn't take bull by the horns, he knew, he just knew, the worst was yet to come.

Then of course Dean did the unthinkable. He fucking killed Death. Why? For Sam. Again, the world is better with Sam in it, and that statement alone makes no sense. Dean knows it, for if there is no world left, then what the hell good is it to be alive?

Cas working with Crowley and Rowena to remove the mark, and who the fuck would have guessed that trio would have teamed up together? As much as Dean refuses to let the ones he cares about go, it seems Cas and Sam feel exactly the same way about him. Of course, Crowley has his own reasons for wanting Dean alive, and there's a whole other story.

So, to this day, Death's dead, the mark is removed, and the very corrupt, immoral, mind fucking energy that was the mark is now free. Free to roam the earth and that has got to be the worst thing Dean could ever imagine happening. If the mark was just a smidgen of what he felt with it, then the earth is for sure doomed. It's breaking down dimensional barriers as they speak and nothing good will come of it. Imagine all those beings, all those worlds that could collide, open up to each other… Dean's stomach flips.

One case at a time, though. That's how they roll. They'll help Hippy Cas, then his own Cas, and then take it day by day until they have a better idea on how the hell they're going to defeat this thing. God? M.I.A. Archangels? Dead. If it's on him, Sam, and Cas, Team Free Will, to fight this thing, then he's up for anything. He helped unleash it onto the world, he'll help put that thing back where it came from.

Just the _how_ is the question.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay get ready for some fun Cas on Cas action (kidding) but I did want to clarify that for most of the scenes where there are two Castiels, the Enderverse!Cas will just be Cas and the current Cas will be Castiel (not in dialog) so that it doesn't get too confusing. :-)

Dean stares down at his drawing of the sigil as Castiel and Sam take their seats next to him, ready to go over any last minute details. Castiel volunteered to do the actual sigil drawing on the wall, with the combination of his and Dean's blood, and thank God because Dean's hands have been shaking so badly all day, he doesn't want to mess it up.

He looks at his watch. 8:10. His stomach is in knots. Fifteen minutes and they're going to another goddamned dimension. Dean feels raw, exposed, and he knows it's due to the fact that he's not burdened with a curse, the mark, anymore. Although it sucked, and yeah it did, it was like having a filter or like an armor. He knew he'd be okay. That he wasn't as vulnerable as he used to be.

But now he's himself, again. Markless and very mortal.

He glances at Castiel who's rising from his seat, looking down at Dean as he picks up the paper with the sigil drawn on it. "We should start, Dean."

Dean nods, his throat constricting, as he follows him to his room where he said would be the best place to do it; something about Dean's essence and sense of familiarity, or something. Dean wasn't really paying attention. All he heard was, "Here's where we'll go through."

They take their place on the floor and Dean looks up at Sam. "Three days, Sam. Don't forget about us," Dean says with a nervous smile, even he knows he can't hide.

Sam just smiles and hands Castiel the blade. He starts to cut his palm, the blood pools, and he lets it drip into a small ritualistic bowl Sam gave them. _Really Sam, it didn't have to be some sort of Urn of Osiris or anything…_

"Your turn."

Castiel hands Dean the blade and he copies him, slicing into his palm, letting the blood flow easily into the bowl. He gets drawn to the sight of the red liquid pushing through the opening of his skin, the way it flows out, over his palm, and down into the bowl, mixing with Cas' blood. Drip after drip, their blood combining. He knows he's seeing things when there's tiny glowing sparks, reacting, almost like their blood’s coming alive. Castiel extends his hand and takes Dean's wrist, pushing it back.

"Okay, that's enough."

He watches Castiel begin to draw the sigil on the wall, moving rapidly, it's almost hard to keep up. Dipping his fingers in the bowl for more, smearing the redness on the wall and he's pretty sure he didn't even look down at the paper. Dean chuckles, because he knows Castiel doesn't even have to.

It's done. It's actually done and Dean glances at his watch. 8:24, he swallows hard looking at the angel, who's reaching out to him, grabbing his hand, and _oh…_

"8:25," Dean squeaks out and really, where the hell have his balls gone?

Castiel squeezes his hand tightly and slams the wall, and suddenly they're enveloped in a bright light. _Is this what the angels felt when they would ban them?_ His skin is starting to tingle, no wait, something is sprinkling on him, is it rain? He's not sure, but he won't let go of Cas' hand when he feels his body being tugged, pulled, and he thinks he hears him yell something like, "Hang on!" But he's not sure due to the strange high pitched ringing in his ears.

He can't see anything, it's all just colors and lights surrounding him and then it fades, his skin still feeling the light touch of rain as he looks at Castiel, still holding his hand. They're in the woods and when Dean gets his bearings straight, it looks similar to area in his dream when Castiel was there with him.

"Is this-"

Castiel (still holding his hand, by the way) scans the area and nods. "I think so. It looks just like the woods in your dream. I wonder if he was showing us this location for a specific reason. We should--"

Castiel rises to his feet, helping Dean to his and then slowly releases his grip. _Damn._ Dean looks up to sky, trying to ignore the warmth he still feels from Castiel's hand, and blinks into the light drizzle.

"And it's raining. Perfect."

They begin to walk without really knowing which way to the camp. The air is warm, typical for June and the light rain brings so much humidity, Dean's already sweating. Castiel is leading him in the same direction as in the dream, probably assuming that Hippy Cas had been showing them something.

"Why here? Like, shouldn't we have landed where _this_ Cas made his sigil?" Dean asks, wearily taking in his surroundings.

"Not necessarily," Castiel says with a furrowed brow.

"Dean, wait." He holds his arm out, stopping Dean in his tracks. "I hear something."

Dean freezes, trying to remain as still as possible. "It's the woods, Cas. Animals?"

"No, it's--" Castiel squints his eyes, head tilted as if he's listening to something that Dean just can't seem to hear.

"Cas?"

"Dean, we need to move in the other direction, quickly."

Castiel turns and pulls Dean's arm with him. They begin to run and Dean has no fucking idea why, but he does, because Castiel says so, and then he finally hears it. Scuffling, and a hell of a lot of it. He turns back, and his eyes grow wide.

"Holy… Croats!" Dean yells as he runs faster now, catching up to Castiel, who at half power still can sprint like a marathon runner. "Fucking Croats, Cas."

"I know, we're outnumbered, we need to run. Try and keep up Dean, my wings don't work, back home or here, so we're on foot for this trip."

Dean nods, racing toward a clearing when suddenly he sees a few jeeps up ahead. He recognizes them as Chitaqua rides. "Cas, jeeps,"

"I see them."

They run through the last of the thickness and onto a paved road. He can see much better now and that there are four jeeps, and about fifteen people, give or take.

A voice calls out from in the direction of the blockade. "Guys, get down!"

Dean doesn't recognize the voice. It's not Cas, but he does as he says and grabs Castiel with him as they fall to the ground, face first. Dean makes a grunting noise as the gravel seems to tear through his shirt and catch his skin.

"Son of a…"

Shots are fired out, one after the other, empty shells hitting the ground, submachine guns blasting past them, and holy shit, that was close. Too damn close. When the gunfire ends, Dean peeks up from under his arm at a figure walking toward them.

"You two need to be more careful," Chuck says, smiling down at them.

Dean is half dazed as he gets to his feet. He scans Chuck from head to toe; fatigues, fucking machine gun strapped around his chest. "Well, look at you, Rambo."

"Hello to you too, Dean." Chuck's eyes drift to Castiel. "Wow, Cas. Long time no see. You look so… clean."

"So I've heard," Castiel says, brushing the dirt off of his pants. "Where's your Cas?"

Chuck looks behind him at the army brigade. They've come a long way since Dean's seen them last. And Chuck… who was deathly afraid of a bb gun is now strapped and taking no prisoners.

"He's back at the camp. He sent us here to get you guys, he had a feeling this is where you'd pop up." Chuck turns. "Come on, I'll drive."

Dean looks at Castiel and smirks, seeing the utter confusion on his face. He rests a hand on his shoulder. "Welcome to Dystopia."

 

 

* * *

 

 

The camp is buzzing with people, walking from between cabins, and so forth. Some stopping and eyeing Dean and Castiel like they're from another planet, and that probably isn't that far off. Some, just jaw dropping stares like they're seeing a ghost.

Well, they are in a way, for they’re the doppelgangers of their dead fearless leader and their love guru.

He begins to wonder just how much Cas had told them about their coming here. It must be freaking them the fuck out seeing him right now and by the look of this hot blonde who is making her way over to him, he's thinking that this can't be good.

"Dean!" She throws her arms around him and kisses him, Dean pushing her off of him and wiping his mouth.

"Look, lady--"

"Carissa, that's enough!" A very familiar, gravelly voice shouts from a few cabins away. He quickly glances at _his_ Castiel who is giving this woman a certain look of death, and if looks could smite…

The other Cas is waving at them, calling them over, so they continue down the path, Chuck close behind them as they make their way to his cabin. Dean smiles up at the familiar face, yeah, very familiar, and Cas is smiling back, holding a cup of something. Coffee?

"Dean, Cas, you made it! Come in," Cas says, heading inside through those damn beads.

Dean leads with Castiel behind him, and Chuck in the rear. Incense are burning, an album playing… and oh an actual album. The Animals. Dean can dig it.

"Guys, I can't actually believe…" Cas is looking Dean over and then stops at Castiel. "Wow, you're even better in person, you. Man, I miss having grace."

He's about to touch Castiel but he withdraws, which is good seeing as how Castiel looks like he's about to have a panic attack.

"So, we're here yeah. And uh, we need to know where the tear is to your universe so we can seal it up, prevent this thing from coming."

Cas sighs and moves to the sofa, patting next to him for Dean and Castiel to take their seats. Chuck nods at them, and says, "I'll be back in a bit."

Dean tugs Castiel's coat once Chuck leaves and they take their place on the couch, sinking into the surprisingly comfortable cushions, thankfully covered with throws and blankets, because Dean really doesn't want to know what happens on this thing.

He must have been fidgeting because Cas starts to laugh. "Oh calm down, it's all clean in here. I don't do the orgies anymore."

Castiel's eyes widens and he turns to his counterpart and Dean can't help but to chuckle. "Oh, Dean didn't tell you?"

"He-he did but--"

"You were hoping he was full of shit?" Cas laughs again, lighting up a joint and crap, this is starting to remind him of one of their dreams except now they have a third party, _and come to think of it… No. Just no._

"How, did that happen? Why did you ever… even with Dean here?" Castiel asks Cas, real concern on his face.

Dean snaps his head in Castiel's direction. What does he have to do with it, or _that_ Dean rather.

"Oh, you and I will have to have a lovely one on one later. For now," he hands Castiel the joint. "Smoke?"

"No, thank you." Castiel eyes Dean, probably wondering if he's going to indulge and he declines as well. "So, any ideas?"

"Ideas?" Cas blows the smoke out of his mouth, kindly away from them. "Oh, you mean the portal? Yeah I have some ideas. I've been scouting the area, bringing Chuck along. I had to train him, I wasn't in the mood to see him die, not when there aren't any archangels to rescue him.

"He's still a prophet?" Dean asks, eyeing the two Castiels because really, he has no clue how that whole prophet of the lord thing works anyway.

Cas nods. "Mm hm, he just doesn't get the visions, the future stuff anymore, but he's spot on with his intuitions, feelings, now that he's sober and all."

Dean frowns and nods. Wow, Chuck is sober, still a prophet, Cas gave up orgies, and what the hell happened to make them all change? Not that it's a bad thing.

"So, why the change?"

Cas stills, eyeing them both and sets the joint down in the ashtray next to the sofa. He brings his knees up to his chest and sighs. His eyes are stuck on Dean, with a look of melancholy that Dean's not sure he's ever seen on either Cas' face, and then the former angel quickly shifts his gaze to Castiel.

"Have you ever watched him die?"

Castiel looks at Dean, briefly, then back at Cas, shaking his head. "Well, no. I haven't actually--”

"It's the worst thing you will ever see in your entire, _our_ entire existence. Nothing, not one thing you have ever experienced will ever compare to that pain. Nothing."

Dean leans in. "We know he… I'm sorry." Dean's face is red, because the worst thing ever for Cas, even _his_ Cas is to see him die? Him?

"I can't imagine. I really can't," Castiel says, looking at Cas sympathetically.

"You will never know pain on that scale, Cas.” He pauses to swallow.

“I was up in the warehouse, killing my last demon. Dead bodies, both demon and allies all around me when I saw Lucifer and Dean, I saw their fight and I was too late."

He draws a shaky breath and continues. "He snapped his neck and there was nothing I could do. I was powerless. Mortal. Human. I saw him alive one second, dead the next."

Dean looks at Castiel whose hands are shaking, _his_ Castiel, clearly affected by this conversation and it's bewildering to Dean. Dean rests a hand on his arm, trying to show him that's he's right here, but Castiel doesn't even acknowledge it.

"That's… I understand."

Cas is looking at Dean now and smiling at his hand on his Castiel's arm so Dean withdraws it, shyly, coughing. "So then what? What did you guys do?"

"After you left, Lucifer vanished. I ran down there as fast as I could, hoping there was a snowball's chance Dean wasn't really dead, you know? Maybe Lucifer was playing mind games. Parlor tricks. But when I reached Dean, he was already cooling, his body limp and--"

"It's okay, Cas. You don't have to--"

"My Dean. The man I've done everything for. The man I followed here, who trained me to be a hunter, who… made life worth living, was gone. Ripped from me before we could…" Tears fall down his cheeks and Dean's surprised when Castiel reaches out to touch Cas' hand.

"It must have been impossible."

 _Life worth living_. Wow, that's deep and he wonders if his own Castiel feels that way about him. Nah.

"It was. But I did what I had to do. I had to take him back here, give him a proper hunter's funeral. We were all here, all of us who survived, and I drank for a month straight after that. I locked my door, because yes, this cabin actually has a door now, and hid myself from the world that took my Dean from me."

Dean looks over at the beads and oh, hey, look at that.

"Then something happened. Something… magical," he says, his eyes staring at the ceiling. "I would love to tell you all about it, but I'm starving and was about to make something to eat. You both hungry?"

Dean nods, trying to do anything but think about the dreams, 'cause Cas and cooking... "Sure, uh, you need help?"

"Actually, I was wondering if Cas can help me. Here," he hands Dean a few maps, each with different colored markings on it. "Here are some of locations that I believe the tear could be. Just take a look and try to remember the areas before we head out there tomorrow."

Dean looks up. "Why tomorrow? Why not now?"

Cas sighs, smiles, and extends his hand out for Castiel, helping him off the sofa to his feet. "Because, I'm hungry. It's going to be dark soon, and you don't want to be out there in the dark. Trust me."

Dean watches Cas drag Castiel into the kitchen, his angel looking back at him confused, and all Dean could do is smile. So the two Castiels will have a nice talk, cook some food together, and Dean's about to get ideas that he really, _really_ shouldn't be getting right now.

He decides to get his mind out of the three-way gutter and takes a closer look at the maps. He recognizes the road that leads into the camp; the general area is familiar, it's been seven years but he remembers the layout somewhat. It seems there are four locations, all on opposite ends of the map and, of course that's how it's going to be.

He finds a pencil on the coffee table and begins drawing out routes they can take to each location without wasting too much time.

They could split up, but he has a feeling both Castiels will be against that idea. Seeing Cas so torn up, broken, over Dean's death really screwed with his head a little. If he died, would Castiel mourn him like that? Would he go on about being the only reason worth living? Would he cry?

He can't even picture it. Not that his Castiel is a cold son of a bitch, but to be that affected by his death?

Of course Dean on the other hand, those times he had seen the death of his angel, well, that did things to him he'd rather not even relive. The worst part was watching him walk into that reservoir, covered in black goo, only minutes after telling him he wanted to redeem himself.

Fuck, that was hard. Everything they had been doing all year, all the lies and betrayal didn't mean a damn thing at that moment. All that Dean felt was loss. Like a part of him went into that river with Castiel.

Dean kept his coat, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind (and heart) that Castiel wasn't really gone. He'd be back. He always came back. When moving from car to car, every time he grabbed that dirty, bloody, smelling like mildew coat, he'd hang onto it for longer than desired and just remember his angel in it.

How he'd show up out of the blue, the wind of his wings knocking everything over. How his hair would be so messy, like the damn guy just got out of bed, but it was just... cute. He couldn't let go, even if it was just a stupid piece of clothing.

Castiel didn't have that privilege of knowing that about Dean, though. Sure, Dean has died, gone to Hell, became a demon, and is still walking and talking, but if he really died, and Castiel couldn't bring him back, that would be it. He's sure Heaven doesn't give a rat's ass about Dean now, and resurrecting him wouldn’t even be on the table. And God, well, who the fuck knows where the hell _he_ is.

And just that thought gives Dean the chills. If Castiel died, there was no God to bring him back this time. Where would he go? Heaven? Is there an angel heaven?

He realizes he stopped drawing on the map when the two Castiel's return to the living room, holding trays of steaming bowls of… something. Dean looks up and smiles at the hearty stew.

"It's part canned, part fresh. We improvise here." Cas smiles down at him.

They each take a bowl and Dean digs in, feeling hungrier than he thought. He watches his Castiel eyeing it, and he wonders if he'll even eat it but then he does, doing that eye thing again, and Dean can't hold back his smile.

"So, Castiel, angel of the Lord, is hungry. Why aren't you fully powered?" Cas asks.

Castiel swallows. "I don't know. My grace has been compromised, I believe."

Cas looks at both of them, curiously. "Uh, how? I didn't think that was possible. With me, mine just drained because of Heaven just not giving a shit anymore."

He sees Castiel shift on the couch, but he's still calm, eating his stew as he talks. "I was tricked by Metatron--"

"The scribe?"

"Yes, he stole my grace and used it for a spell to make the angels fall and when I was finally able to get it back, this is what happened. My wings, broken, and a witch was even able to put a spell on me."

Cas holds the spoon in front of his opened mouth. He lowers it back into the bowl and sighs. "Holy shit. That's some horrible stuff to happen to you. And here I thought I got the short end of the stick.

Castiel shrugs.

"How does one make angels fall?" Cas asks, resuming eating.

"He needed ingredients. A heart of a Nephilim," Castiel cringes, "Cupid's Bow-"

"Oh, and the grace of an angel in love," Cas blurts out and Castiel almost chokes on his stew.

_The grace of the what in huh?_

Dean's staring at Castiel now, like why didn't he ever tell him that was the reason his grace was needed and who the fuck was he in love with back then? Dean can feel the jealousy start to build in him and he really, fucking really does not want to even go there.

Castiel is nervous now. Dean can't figure that damn angel out. "I- uh, not sure that…"

Cas' eyes grow wide. "Oops, I mean, right, never mind. So that's how he did it and wow that's terrible. What a dick Metatron is. Who knew?"

Dean watches Castiel compose himself, it's kind of funny to see but Dean really can't let go of that little bit of information he just received. That was at the end of that year when he and Castiel grew apart, and yeah, he's feeling the regret all over again.

"He got away with a demon tablet. I have no idea what he plans on doing with it."

"Demon tablet? Wow you guys have so much happening in your world. Here, we have Croats and an Apocalypse that seems to be on pause, and a devil who appears to have gone on shore leave or something," Cas says, setting his empty bowl down on the coffee table.

"Yeah, what's up with that? Where is Lucifer anyway?" Dean asks, finishing his stew.

"I haven't seen him since that day. It's been almost a year and nothing. Croats are still around, but I think that problem has a life of its own now, and people are actually beginning to think that it's over, but I know it's not. I know Lucifer is waiting for something. Something big."

"Like the Darkness erasing barriers between dimensions?" Dean says.

"Huh, yeah, something like that."

Cas gets up and takes their empty bowls to the kitchen and Dean hears the water running. He has a few minutes, he figures, alone with his Castiel and he looks at him, eyes meeting.

"In love?"

"Dean, not now," Castiel says, scanning the room as if he's expecting something to happen, probably hoping for a distraction. Dean opens his mouth to say something when Cas comes back into the room, stretching his arms over his head, revealing the skin above his pants.

_Oh, that's a cute little treasure trail there…_

"Metatron is a backstabbing dick. These tablets, I guess hold some kind of power?"

"The word of God. Angel tablet and demon tablet. I'm not sure how many more are out there. The angel tablet has been destroyed, though, when Metatron used it to gain godlike powers. Heaven was a mess."

Cas plops down on the couch, causing the springs to bounce, making them all rock. "That's just… wow."

"Crowley had been hell bent - pun intended, on acquiring the tablets as well. We had a new prophet, Kevin, which is why we assumed Chuck, in our world, was dead."

"Crowley?" He looks at Dean. "That crossroads demon we found?"

Dean nods. "The one and only, except King of Hell now. Remember, in our world, Lucifer is back in the cage."

Cas blows air between his lips. "Right, right. It's so interesting how your world is, how things would have gone if Sam.. if Dean… just so different." He says that last part looking at Castiel.

"You're still an angel, somewhat, he's still alive,” he gestures to Dean. “Lucifer is locked away--"

"With Michael," Castiel adds, with a hint of a smile.

"With Michael," Cas repeats. "And you two haven't… I mean, you've never…" Cas closes his mouth and Dean wonders what in the hell he was about to say.

"It's been a hell of time," Dean says, resting back against the cushions.

_In love, in love, in love. Who the hell is she, or he…?_

"And you still have Sam."

Dean nods. "He's getting us home in three days."

"That's great. It seems you three have been through hell, but you still all have each other and that's amazing. You're lucky." Cas sighs, looking down as he inches back onto the couch. "I miss him so much. Everyday."

Castiel and Dean share a look.

Cas continues, "We became so estranged in the two years we were here. Since Sam… well something broke in Dean. He went a little crazy and at the same time, he shut himself down, even I couldn't--”

They wait in silence for him to continue. It's weird hearing about himself, even though it's another version, it's still him. What could have been, what he could have turned into, it's all really fucking strange. Sure, he met his alter ego. He talked to him, even got knocked out twice by him. But hearing it from another person's perspective, especially Cas', well it's all levels of crazy.

"We weren't the same, within ourselves or with each other. I spent my time trying to forget, while he spent his time trying to escape. I chose drugs and sex, he chose… booze and sex. But the whole time, _the whole time_ , I was just wishing he and I could…" He looks up at them, his face sad, tears in his eyes.

_Damn._

Dean's trying to swallow but he’s finding it really hard. To hear Cas talk about Dean this way brings up so many questions in him. So _so_ many. "Wishing you and he could what?" Dean asks, he just has to know, fuck it.

"Dean, I…" He looks at Castiel briefly. "I'm sorry," then turning back to Dean, "I've loved him since I pulled him from Hell. He was all I ever wanted, all I ever cared to have, and he was taken from me, so yeah, I drowned myself even further in misery and drunkenness until… I had a vision. A clear vision, and that hasn't happened to me while being mortal."

Dean does hear everything but the only words repeating are: _"I've loved him since I pulled him from hell."_

He's starting to envy this Dean, having Cas so utterly devoted like that, thinking of him in the most incredible way possible, even as shitty as he was. He doesn't even have to look at Castiel to know he's uncomfortable. He can feel it, feel _him_ , and Dean can't deny feeling it too. 

"I saw this light shining on a pillar, with words written in Enochian, "The Righteous Man is alive, and he will come for you." I almost shook it off, not understanding it, or if it was a message from God, the Devil, who?”

“I picked myself up, regardless, and decided to take the camp back, become their new leader, stop the debauchery, and return to fighting evil. We managed to clear seven towns so far of Croats and demons, saving the occupants, and we keep on going, little by little."

"And then this started happening, the weird dreams, and _him_ … he started coming after me, and then I saw you, and well, it all started to make sense. Of course now with the Darkness unleashed, it kind of comes together."

"Him? The thing after you?" Dean asks.

Cas cringes. "Yeah, yeah. Listen I would love to continue this, and we will, but over coffee. In the morning. I need sleep, I'm no night owl anymore." He winks and grins.

"Right, of course," Dean says, rising from the couch, as Castiel does the same. "Uh--"

"Oh, you guys are sleeping in Dean's old place. I've kept it empty, since… I just couldn't bear having anyone live in it. Anyway, I fixed it up last night for you two. It should be nice and comfy." He looks at Dean. "Do you remember where it is?"

"Yeah, next to yours, right?"

Cas nods. "I'll come wake you guys in the morning." Cas is on his feet and bringing Dean into a hug. "Thank you for coming. It's more than I could have ever asked for."

Dean hugs him back, a little awkwardly and pats his shoulder as they pull apart. Cas brings Castiel into a hug now and Dean almost laughs at the obvious stiffness of him. It's gotta be weird; hugging yourself.

"Make yourselves at home in there. Dean has a functional shower and I left clothes out for you, Dean's and mine." Cas says, eyeing Castiel. "Just in case." He winks.

"Thanks, Cas." Dean smiles at him as they leave, making their way to the other cabin.

Dean walks up the three uneven steps and opens the door, and this is not how he remembered it at all. The windows have actual curtains now, and come to think of it, why in the hell didn't this Dean have any privacy before?

There's a small table in the corner, next to a makeshift kitchen which is basically a hot plate and basin, he guesses for dishes. A couch sits near the windows and on the far end of the cabin is one king sized bed, and Dean smirks at all the candles around the place. There aren't any lamps, lights, so this must be what they'll use to see. It works. It does look kind of like some romantic setting but Dean hopes Castiel doesn't see it that way and get all awkward around him.

He sees Castiel notice the one bed and he looks at Dean, briefly before removing his coat and heading toward it. Sitting on the edge, he bounces a bit, and does Cas do that with every new bed he's about to sleep on?

"Comfy?" Dean asks him, smiling.

"Surprisingly, yes. It seems they did a good job stocking this camp with quality comfort. Cas' couch was very nice as well."

"Yeah, not bad for a crap hole, huh?" Dean says, removing his flannel, realizing there's really no need for such a thing on this summer night. He glances at the shower and decides to wash away his sweat and stink of the day. Removing his shirt, he throws it on the chair near the bed and starts on his pants before he realizes what he's doing. Castiel is staring at him, wide eyed.

"Oh, uh, gonna take a shower," Dean says, face reddening as he speaks. He turns on his heel and heads to the small bathroom. The shower isn't that bad, it's small as hell, but it works; fresh water - warm even, and wow, there's even soap and shampoo. Not bad Dean, not bad.

A few towels are laid out for him and he silently thanks Cas for leaving them there. He smiles at the little rug on the floor to soak up his wet feet. _Dystopia isn't so bad after all._ After slipping into sweatpants and a t-shirt, he silently thanks Cas again, and he heads into the living room where Castiel is sitting on the bed with the maps sprawled out. Dean notices the candles lit now and smirks.

Castiel looks up at Dean. "I think I would like a shower as well."

Dean watches him hop off the bed and toward the bathroom, without another word. He's acting shifty, distant. It has to be all sorts of weird for Castiel, Dean gets that. Seeing his double, who is the complete opposite of himself, in an apocalyptic wonderland of camps, jeeps, and soldiers trained to take down Croats and monsters. Dean remembers his first time all too well, and ‘mind fuck’ doesn't even begin to describe it.

He's left on the bed thinking about every moment he's spent here, from getting knocked out and handcuffed by his counterpart, to the ride to doom, not even knowing what in the hell Dean's plans were. Fodder. Cas and his crew were fodder...

"It's not as nice as the bunker's shower, but I feel refreshed," Castiel says and Dean looks up and almost chokes. Castiel is standing there with wet hair, blue sweatpants, and an old worn out AC/DC t-shirt that he knows was his at some point. He has a sudden desire to grab him, kiss him, and also find this other Dean's box of stuff and see what in the hell he actually held onto. The latter seems more feasible at the moment.

Castiel's mouth is crooked when he plops on the bed, he grabs the maps, opening them up and turns to look at Dean, who's staring at him like a damn giddy fool.

"We can go over the routes now, if you wish."

"Sh-sure." Dean leans in, looking at the maps but not really looking at them at all. He wants to turn his gaze, fix his eyes on the - oh so goddamned human looking - Castiel, so casual, so… hot. He can't help it and looks at him again and fuck, he's caught.

"Why are you giving me such a weird look, Dean?"

 _Because I want you so badly, it hurts?_ "You just look so… human. I guess I'm just not used to it."

Castiel relaxes and rests his back against the wall behind them. "And you like how I look?"

 _What?_ "Uh, sure, it's… different. But I like it. Sure."

"This is better?"

"Better?" Dean's sitting up now.

"Than my usual suit and coat."

Dean chuckles. "No, not better, just different. I like all the looks, all the stuff, uh, you know…"

_Why are words sometimes so hard to use?_

"You like how _he_ looks."

 _Oh, that what's this is about. Got it_. "Cas, come the fuck on. We've been over this."

"I'm just saying, he's more laid back, wears comfortable clothing, listens to cooler music, I can see why you'd be attracted, or uh," Castiel's face turns red, Dean catches it too. "I mean, why you'd get along well with--"

Dean claps his hands together and turns his body so that he's facing Castiel, his knees touching his legs and he doesn't care. "He's cool, yeah. He's also you. A different you, but you. I don't _prefer_ him, if that's where this is going."

"No, I was just making an observation." Castiel averts his eyes.

Dean tries to read him, get an idea of what in the hell is going on with him, but it's always damn impossible with the angel. Always. "What's this about, Cas. I'm kind of tired of the mixed signals here. What's your problem all of a sudden?"

"I don't have a problem, Dean."

"Yeah, coulda fooled me."

Castiel tilts his head. "I'm in a parallel universe with my counterpart who is 100% different than me, so it's a little strange. I'm sure you understand."

"Yeah, I get it, but before that, you had this weird, I don't know, jealousy thing. Are you jealous, Cas?"

Fuck, he didn't want to ask that.

Castiel's face turns beet red again. "J-jealous? Why would I be--"

"I don't know, Cas. You were interested in the dreams and then when… you just seemed pissed. At first I thought it was because you saw me as just some asshole but, now--"

"It's not that. It's, I don't know." Castiel looks away, clearly distressed and Dean has no idea why this is even happening. Why are they fighting? Over what exactly? It's all just fucking confusing and Dean's had enough of it.

"Cas--"

"We've drifted apart and I guess it bothers me." Cas turns to face Dean, so that they're both sitting crossed legged on the bed.

"So why didn't you just say that?"

 _Why don't the both of them say a lot of things?_ Dean's the last one to give Castiel a hard time about bottling shit up because he's the damn president of that club.

"I'm not good at this, Dean. These feelings, and... how was I supposed to talk to you? You were so lost these last couple of years, and then there was no chance." He looks up at Dean. "I can't fix a friendship when the other is pushing me away."

 _Motherfucker._ "I'm not happy about it either, Cas. I couldn't--"  

Things between them had been so strained and he couldn't do anything either because of that damn mark. "You have no idea. You don't want to know how fucked up my head was."

A brief moment of silence, and then Castiel clears his throat., "So yes, maybe I am a little jealous. Despite it being a dream, you were seeking to be close to my counterpart, not me. I couldn't understand why, at first, why him? Then I come here and I see why."

Castiel looks away and Dean reaches out, grabbing his chin to make him look at him. His stomach flips at the contact, but he tries to ignore it.

"You really think he could even compare? You and I, we've been through fucking hell together. No one out there has as much mileage as we do." He pauses, licking his lips.

"It fucking hurt me too Cas, and yeah, I'm admitting it because fuck it. I want us back to how we were. These last few years have been fucking terrible." Dean sighs, seeing Castiel's face soften a bit.

"I want that too. Very much."

They share a smile, and _thank fucking God._ This was starting to get too Lifetime Movie of the Week for him and he really just wanted to get to the root of the issue. They need this, he knows, and he was the one who brought it on, albeit hating this sort of shit, but Castiel misses him. He misses Castiel. They want their friendship back to how it was.

Check. He can do that.

Of course a big part of him wishes that Castiel would have said he was jealous for other reasons, but whatever, he'll take what he can get. Does Dean want more? Hell yeah he does. But is their friendship the most important thing right now? Absolutely.

"Okay, so now that's settled, can we agree that no, I don't want to replace you, or change you, although I gotta say, I need to lend you my clothes more often, 'cause you do rock that AC/DC shirt."

Castiel laughs, looking down at his shirt. "I had a feeling this was yours, I guess it belonged to the other Dean."

"Yeah, I should look around, go through his stuff, see how much he held onto."

Castiel raises an eyebrow. "Careful, you might find something you don't want to see."

Dean shrugs and turns back to the maps on the bed. "I'll consider it… tomorrow. Tonight, we figure out how in the hell we're going to cover this much ground in a day."

Castiel leans over, taking a map for himself and they go over the routes. It appears to be in some sort of deliberate pattern. Dean takes all four maps and spreads them across the mattress and he notices that each point marked is perfectly aligned with the others, making a square.

"We might have to split up."

"No," Castiel says, hoarsely.

"Then we ain't doing this all in one day. Just saying."

"I know, but it's too risky splitting up, and we don't know if this person who's after Cas will show. It's better we stick together."

"Alright fine. But we got three days, Cas. Three."

"I'm aware. We can do it. See here," Cas point to the two markings on the bottom. "Those are downhill, and I think there is a small serviceable road here, we can drive some of the way."

Dean peers in closer and how did he miss that? "Good eye. Okay, so we do the north first, then move south."

"Yes, I think that would be best."

"Alright. Good." Dean folds up the maps and tosses them onto the floor next to him. He glances at Castiel as he slides his body under the blankets. For a June night, it's fairly cool in the cabin, and Dean decides to leave the window slightly open for a nice breeze, which is making the candles dance.

Castiel blows them out, leaving the room in pitch black and Dean feels him pull the covers. His body rests next to Dean and they both let out a dramatic sigh at the same time.

"I'm sorry for being a jerk," Castiel says.

Dean chuckles. "You weren't. I was. I mean, I think it was just a stupid misunderstanding."

"It's weird hearing him talk about Dean. _His_ Dean. I think… I think there was more to their friendship."

"Oh yeah? What makes you say that?"

"Just a feeling."

He hears Castiel shift and now he feels his breath against his face. He must have turned on his side, and Dean decides to do the same. He'll take full advantage of having Castiel this close, even if it isn't anything special.

"Maybe. He did seem to be holding some stuff back, like he didn't want to say."

"You're very observant," Castiel says, his breath in Dean's face and it's driving him mad. _My God_ , even his breath smells sweet, like, sugar or… honey.

"Yeah?" Dean has no idea why he moves even closer to Castiel, their knees making contact and the hands that they have in front of them are touching as well. Dean feels butterflies in his stomach, and a warmth from his chest to his groin.

Man, this is so fucking awesome and sensual in a way. So close but barely touching, and yet, the energy between them is like a goddamned whirlwind, surrounding them, moving inside, and what is that? It's always been there since he met Castiel and he never understood it. It's something that Dean has never shared with anyone else.

"I believe we're violating at least four of your rules here, Dean."

Dean laughs, and yeah huh, his rules. He shakes his head, wishing he could see Castiel's face right now, but it's too dark. He wants to see that smile he know he has. "Yeah, well. Special occasion."

He hears Castiel chuckle. "Goodnight Dean."

"Goodnight Cas."


	9. Chapter 9

There's that moment before you wake up when you're not sure if you're still dreaming or not. It's a hazy, confusing time when something outrageous can seem so completely normal. When fantasy feels real, just for that brief moment.

He thinks that's what this is.

Dean is in Castiel's arms, feeling his angel pressed against his back, his chest moving with each slow, steady breath. His thighs, in line with his, knees resting against the back of Dean's, and that warm breath making the nape of Dean's neck moist.

He's safe, enveloped in his Castiel's embrace and he doesn't want to open his eyes, fearing it's a dream. But he's not sure if the reality of it _not_ being one is even more frightening.

Castiel stirs, keeping his place pressed against Dean. He feels a sudden thrust against his ass and - holy shit-  Castiel is hard. He's moving his goddamn erection on Dean and the confused hunter has no idea what to do. He's very aware that this isn't a dream, now. He's pretty sure Castiel is half asleep and to take advantage of this situation would be really fucking bad. _Really bad._

But of course Dean's rock hard now, throbbing actually. It's intoxicating, having Castiel this close. His heat, his energy, his damn boner. Dean gasps when he feels Castiel's soft lips lightly kissing the back of his neck.

 _Holy shit, is this really happening? Is this gonna happen? Are we fucking ready for this? We haven't even kissed and... am I a chick now?_ _Jesus fucking Christ._

But he wants that first kiss, as corny as it sounds. This is Castiel, not just some random person who he needs to fuck quickly and leave. This is the angel that pulled him out of Hell, rebelled for him, who stuck by his side no matter what. Who’d even hang around Dean just to talk, or watch the stars. Who’d smile at him every once in awhile. That smile that did so many things to Dean and he hasn't even started to process what it is.

Those blue eyes that stare at him, into him, invading his soul, and that's okay. It's Castiel and he doesn't mind his intensity. Sure, it was weird at first and maybe even a little uncomfortable, but once Dean understood the angel more, he started to look forward to those moments; times when they’d either be alone, or talking about something that demanded his utmost attention, and Castiel would just look at him and Dean would forget his own name.

Dean tries to breath. He knows his heart is racing but what should he do? He wants to roll over, take Castiel's head in his hands and kiss him, grind against him, rip his goddamn clothes off.

But then suddenly Castiel stops moving and then the warmth is gone from his neck. The strong arm that's around Dean is slowly sliding off of him.

"Dean…"

Castiel must have woken up in shock, and now Dean's going to play it cool like he was sleeping. He yawns, and lifts his head. "Yeah?"

He hears Castiel cough, the bed bouncing when he gets up. Dean looks over at him, and he’s frazzled, picking up clothes off the floor. Dean wants to laugh but holds it in. He turns and sits up, bringing his knees into his chest, resting his arms on them.

"You, okay there?"

Castiel is holding his discarded pants against his groin and man, he must be so embarrassed. Dean starts to feel bad for the guy.

"Y-yes, I just… I think I need a shower."

Before Dean could tell him that it's okay. Stuff happens, biology and shit, he's not freaked out (okay that's a lie), and they can't control what their bodies are doing in their sleep, Castiel is already in the bathroom.

Dean's head is spinning. Clearly Castiel was half asleep, but damn that was so hot, Dean isn't even sure he'd be able to get rid of his own erection. Jerking off seems kind of weird; being on a do or die mission here, but he also knows he can't go the entire day with the memory of what just happened without finding some kind of release.

He's next in the shower, and that's that. So he waits patiently on the bed, scanning the maps again, hoping to distract him from the tingling feeling on his back that doesn’t seem to be going away.

_Focus Dean. Mission. Maps. Portals._

He sighs at how much land they'll have to cover. This is by no means a small trek, and he's not loving the idea that there are Croats even outside the walls of the camp. Seeing it all again, the infected people, this camp, is kind of surreal. Last time he was here, the circumstances were so different, and for Dean, that was six years ago. For this place, these people, it's only been a year.

Finally Castiel emerges from his really long shower. What the hell was he doing in there. _Oh_. Dean can't hide the excitement that's now growing in his pants at imagining his angel jerking off in the shower. _Wait, does he even do that?_

He was hard, Dean fucking _felt_ that, but does Castiel even do anything about it? He laughs quietly at the ridiculous questions that are on his mind at the crack of dawn.

He doesn't wait for Castiel to be awkward around him so he makes a beeline for the shower. He soaps up and there’s no denying that he’s going to have to rub one out. He's cock is throbbing so badly now, reacting to Castiel's essence that he left behind. Dean's not even sure if that's a thing, but fuck it, it's happening. He's stroking himself, his soapy fingers wrapped around his length, and hissing at the feeling, his head back, leaning against the tile.

He's imagining Castiel taking care of himself, the way his eyes squint shut, like when he's eating something delicious for the first time, and how his lips part slightly while he lets out a low but damn erotic moan. Sometimes it's this deep throat growl that has no problem arousing Dean.

God, what he'd love to show Castiel, the things he'd do to him and let be done to him, they would be in bed for weeks. But right now, he wants his angel in the shower with him, coming up from behind and reaching around to take him in his hand. He wants him to jerk him, slowly at first, then faster, and… _yeah, just like that._

He wants to see his pink swollen head move in and out of his friend's fist, easily, sliding so perfectly. He wants Castiel to make him come. Come so hard.

Dean looks down watching himself squirt all over the tiles and he lets out an overly enthusiastic moan. _Fuck, I didn't mean to do that_.  He splashes some water, removing any evidence of his past time and turns the shower off. He remains still, listening for Castiel, praying he's not anywhere near the bathroom.

Stepping out, he wraps himself in the towel and grabs his clothes, before heading out to the bedroom. Castiel is on the other side of the cabin, staring out the window. Okay good. He couldn't have heard Dean and his very loud, very vocal orgasm in the shower then.

Castiel turns around and his face does something that Dean can't quite interpet. Is he mad? Annoyed? _What the fuck is that look, Cas?_

"Dean, we need to talk."

Dean stands still, hands on hips and says, "Okay. Shoot."

Castiel looks away, shyly. "Get dressed, first."

"O-kaaay."

Dean finds a fresh pair of clothes the other Cas had laid out for him, belonging to the previous Dean Winchester but not too far from what Dean wears normally, anyway. Jeans, t shirt, flannel, which he may not even need because he can already feel the summer heat from outside. He sits on the bed, starting on his shoes when Castiel finally turns to him.

_Panic? Is that panic?_

"We- this morning, I-I didn't mean to…"

Dean tries to keep a poker face on, but it's so hard because Castiel looks just too damn adorable. "This morning what?"

He's not trying to be a dick, pretending he has no idea what Castiel is talking about, he's only trying to make him less freaked out, not as uncomfortable.

"I was, well, I wasn't aware what I was doing, and-"

"Hey, guys," a voice calls from the open window. Dean turns to see Chuck there, smiling brightly. "Cas has coffee and breakfast ready, he wants you two to come over."

Dean and Castiel share a look before Dean rises from the bed. "Sounds perfect."

He grins at Castiel silently telling him that all is okay, let's fucking eat. He’s partly happy for the distraction, because he’s not even sure he wants to talk to him about what happened. Life is so much easier when words don’t fuck it up.

They follow Chuck to the other cabin and Dean can already smell the bacon. He has to wonder if this lifestyle isn't actually that bad. Good food, own space, in nature… aside from the ongoing problem of Croats and oh yeah, Lucifer, this seems pretty damn sweet.

"Hi, you two. Sleep well?" Cas grins at them, slyly.

Castiel nods, nervously as he takes his seat, and Dean sits in the chair beside him. Cas brings over the skillet where he had the eggs warming and scrapes some onto their plates. A small dish with bacon and toast is sitting in the middle of the table and Dean doesn't hesitate to grab some.

"Cas, this is awesome. Thanks," Dean says, already shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth.

"Our last run was in a town north of the city and they had freezers full of meat and bread. It was like finding the holy grail." Chuck informs them, making himself a plate as well. "We have enough generators here to power up our own freezers so most of our food lasts for months."

Castiel takes a bite of his bacon and Dean has to watch for his reaction, just 'cause (to file away for his evening shower) and this is the best one yet. Dean stops chewing his own food just to take in his angel practically orgasming.

Dean feels eyes on him. He turns to see Cas - Hippy Cas, looking at him, smiling.

"So, you both take a look at the maps last night?" Cas asks, winking at Dean.

Dean blushes, taking a sip of his coffee, and it's just how he likes it. Black, with sugar. "Yeah, it's a hell of a space to cover, but Cas pointed out a small road we might be able to use with the jeeps. It’s south."

"You mean that brown line in the middle of the southern maps? Yeah, that's not a road," Chuck says, and Castiel and Dean turn to him. "Well, it _was_ a road, once. Now it's kind of underwater. Too high even for the jeep."

"We should split up," Dean says, avoiding Castiel's glare.

"I said no, Dean, it's too dangerous." Castiel adds, and Dean finally looks at him, and is taken aback by the red in his cheeks. _Oh he's pissed._

"Actually," Cas swallows his food. "That might be a great idea."

Castiel snaps his head and scowls at Cas. Chuck coughs, clearing his throat. "We have walkie talkies, we can keep in communication, so whoever finds it first, we all stop and go there-"

"You mean, split up four ways?" Castiel asks, putting his fork down and by the looks of it, losing his appetite.

Dean's not going to lie, he doesn't like that idea either. As efficient as it may be, he thinks pairing off would be better. Safer.

"Well that," Cas sips his coffee and smirks, "would be suicide. No, we pair off."

Dean looks at Castiel whose shoulders seemed to ease. "Cas?"

Castiel nods. "Okay, fine. How do you want to do this?"

Chuck grabs the maps that Dean had left on the floor next to the table and holds one of them up. "We'll go south, since Cas and I are more familiar with that area. The terrain is, well, unstable, the wet ground has caused sinkholes, really thick mud that is hard to walk through, and of course there's the road that is now a river. You guys take north, it's flatter and the woods aren't as dense."

Castiel and Dean are both looking at the northern map, now that Chuck hands it to them. "It doesn't matter where you go first, left or right," Cas adds.

Dean raises an eyebrow. "And what's the Croat situation?"

Cas looks at Chuck, then he sighs. "It's hit or miss. I mean, we had it under control for a while, but they seem to be coming from somewhere west and we haven't checked it out yet, not until I'm sure we have a big enough team."

They all slump and Dean blows air between his lips. "So, do we even stand a chance?"

"Yes, we're going to be way east from what we believe is their home base, or whatever it is. The ones that came after you, they had been there for days and we were scoping them out, hoping they'd lead us back to their breeding grounds, so to speak.”

He pauses. “But they never did, they just wandered the woods, aimlessly. We never saw others join them but that doesn’t mean they’re not out there. There may be some stragglers but as long as you stay together, it should be fine."

"You mean, you knew they were going to be exactly where we'd spawn?" Dean asks, leaning on his elbow, contemplating grabbing another piece of bacon, and fuck it, he will.

Cas watches him, now grinning. "You're Dean," he turns to Castiel, "and Cas. I knew you two could handle it."

Dean chews. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he swallows, "so, okay, I'm assuming you have a nice arsonal for us?"

Cas and Chuck both nod. "Yeah, back in Dean's cabin, we've been kinda using it for that."

Dean furrows his brow and looks at Castiel, then back at Chuck. "We didn't see anything."

"Oh, that's because we have it hidden. There's a wall that slides out. One of our guys here, Tim, he's a carpenter and he built a hidden closet. Pretty sweet, if you ask me."

"Yes, so we will make sure the both of you-" Cas notices Castiel stiffen. "You will both be armed, Cas. You're not at full power, you can't take any chances."

Castiel glances briefly at Dean. "Yes, I think that would be wise."

"Good, then it's settled. Chuck will give you guys your walkie talkie, we only a have a few so you can share one, and I think we should start out in the next hour. I have some last minute things to do around the camp, orders to give, and so on."

"Orders?" Dean asks, grinning.

Cas shifts in his seat. "I _am_ the leader of Chitaqua now." He rises and does that stretch thing where his shirt lifts up and Dean looks away, not wanting to seem like he's ogling him, especially with Castiel right next to him.

Castiel and Dean rise, Dean burping from a delicious breakfast. He finishes his coffee before heading toward the door, or beads, in this case. He seems to like to leave his new front door open for those damn beads.

Chuck follows them out and to Dean's cabin. Inside, they watch Chuck move to the far wall, across from the bed and he runs his hands against the wood, sliding it out. It opens to a modest sized walk-in closet filled to the ceiling with weapons.

Dean's jaw drops. "Holy crap."

Chuck turns to them with an extended hand, a gesture for them to help themselves. "We don't play around. Grab what you want. We even have grenades, if you should feel so inclined."

Castiel and Dean step inside and Dean immediately grabs familiar firearms, pistols, a shotgun for close range. He finds a thigh holster and grabs one as well, a couple of knives, and fuck it, a goddamned grenade. There are a few chest holsters as well, he figures he can strap one on, and then he looks at Castiel as he stares, blankly at all the weapons.

"You want me to arm you?" Dean asks.

Castiel nods slowly, still staring, pensively. Dean takes one of the chest holsters and begins to strap it around Castiel. "Good thing you're not wearing your trench," Dean says as his hands move around Castiel to his back.

He realizes how close he is now, his face almost against the angel's and he starts to blush, wondering if Castiel is as well, but he's too wrapped up in anything to even look at him.

He takes the shotgun and slides it in the holster in the back, and then gives Castiel two pistols for his sides. "You want a thigh holster for a few knives? Blades?"

"I have my angel blade, that can come out when need be, but sure, extra can't hurt."

Dean pulls another thigh holster down and drops to his knees and he's suddenly hit with a million butterflies in his stomach. He notices his hands shaking as he pulls the strap around and slides it up Castiel's thigh. He's trying to be quick, but damn, this holster is a little bit trickier than the others.

As he tightens the strap, he does the stupidest thing; he looks up at Castiel, who is staring down at him with this goddamn powerful look in his eyes, and Dean is so mad that he has no idea what it means. His face is flushed, yeah, but that look… _What the fuck, Cas?_

He watches Castiel swallow, and then Dean looks back down at his hands, desperately trying to hurry the fuck up before he goes full on awkward here. He notices how toned Castiel's muscles are as he flexes under Dean’s touch.  Dean has to try to calm down his heart that’s racing, pounding loudly in his chest.

"Is that tight enough?" Dean asks as he buckles the last strap.

"Y-yes, it's good, thank you, Dean."

Once he’s on his feet again, he grabs a few more things from the closet and smiles crookedly at Castiel, then at Chuck, who's handing Castiel the walkie talkie.

"How's it having Cas as your leader?" Dean asks, utterly curious to see any Castiel in that role. It's hot as hell and he imagines his Castiel taking charge like that, giving orders, controlling an entire camp full of twitchy survivors who have probably seen the worst things imaginable since Lucifer took over.

"He was shaky at first, unsure how to actually lead. Most of this camp has, uh, you know… slept with him, so at first they didn't take him seriously."

Dean and Castiel share a look. Chuck continues, "But he stopped all that... stuff and took control. He's great at it. Fair, kind of a dick, but in a good way. He learned a lot from D-Dean when he was alive, you know."

"He seems to have stepped up, good for him," Dean says.

Chuck nods. "It was hard for him, you know. Dean's death was tragic. He-he was depressed for a long time. Cried every night. He was miserable, but he pushed through. He's a trooper. Strong."

They start to head out and for some reason Dean's really interested in hearing more about Cas, post Dean’s death. Morbid? Yeah maybe, but he can’t deny how moved he is just imagining that his own Castiel feels that strongly for him too.

"He visits Dean's grave every Sunday, puts fresh flowers on it, stays there pretty much all day talking to him. It's bittersweet."

Stepping down from the cabin, Dean glances briefly at Castiel whose face is long and eyebrows arched. "Really? He burned his remains though, right?"

Good to know Castiel has the right idea.

Chuck stops. "Yeah, but he wanted a place to mark his life and death. Somewhere he can go to sit and talk to him. So he made a grave, put his ashes in an urn, salted the ground, and buried it. He crafted a makeshift marker from wood and put Dean's name on it, and all that."

Dean wants to see it. It's really fucking weird but he wants to. "Where is it?"

"Dean." Castiel says, knowing Dean's morbid curiousity is getting the better of him.

"What? I just want to see. What's the big deal?"

Chuck laughs as he waves at Cas who is on the other side of the camp. "I'm sure Cas will take you there before we go. It's also customary for him to talk to Dean before dangerous missions."

Dean thinks about that and fuck, that's really sad but really fucking sweet too. He doesn't look at his Castiel, but he's pretty sure he's thinking the same damn thing.

Would his Castiel do that too? Would he talk to him after he's gone? That day will come eventually. Castiel is immortal, Dean isn't, so his time is gonna come, like it or not. How will his angel move on? What would his missions be? He'll keep fighting, he knows that. But what would Castiel's life actually be without the Winchesters?

"Wow, look at you guys," Cas says, eyeing Dean and Castiel enthusiastically. "You remind me so much of… wow."

Castiel looks down at himself and smirks. _He actually smirks._ "Dean armed me, I had no idea…"

"Yeah, I figured. Neither did I at first and _my_ Dean would have to do the same." Cas winks at Castiel and he notices him blush.

"Okay, so your jeep is there, you guys will follow us out here on the main road, I wouldn’t be too worried about Croats, as I said, the ones that came after you when you arrived were the only ones we've seen in this area but just in case, remain alert."

He looks at Dean. "We're gonna hit a fork in the right, you guys go right and keep going, following the map. The road curves around but straightens out about 10 miles up."

Dean looks down at the map Cas is now holding up, the wind blowing it little too much to get a clear view. "You turn left here then go until the road ends, the rest will be on foot. Then you can choose to go east or west, doesn't matter."

"Alright, and uh, what about supplies? Food and drink?" Dean asks him, realizing this is going to be an all day trip and he's pretty sure a Biggerson's is out of the question.

"Right, each jeep is stocked with coolers and backpacks. You have protein bars, jerky, and water. I also packed some snacks, like chips, cookies, and stuff like that. Will that be enough?" Cas says, looking back and forth between Dean and Castiel.

"Yeah, sure. That's great, thanks Cas."

"Great."

Heading to the jeeps, Cas stops and turns to them. "We need to make one stop first."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They follow Cas around the jeeps and toward an overgrown area on the outskirts of the camp. Dean sees it, the wooden cross, and his stomach flips. He watches Cas take a few flowers from under his vest and place them on the ground, against the grave marker, keeping his head low, and moving his lips. Dean tries to move closer to hear what he's saying, and he and Castiel decide to join him, out of respect, both dropping to their knees beside him.

Cas looks over at them and wipes a tear from his cheek. "I just have this thing I do, if it's okay."

"Yeah, of course," Dean assures him.

Cas turns back to the grave and lowers his head again. He clears his throat. "Dean, we're going to look for those portals, you know, the ones where… _he's_ threatening to come through. I just wanted you to know that I'll be okay. I have Chuck, and guess what, Dean's back, the other Dean. Remember him? He drove you crazy, didn't he?" Cas looks at Dean and smiles.

"He brought _his_ Cas, who I gotta say, is so lucky. He's still an angel, and he's so brave, someone I can really look up to." Castiel smiles at Cas.

"Dean, they're here to help me and I just wanted you to know. I bet you'd be glad about that."

His shoulders slump and Dean notices he's shaking. He doesn't really know what to do, so he reaches out and places a hand on his back, rubbing gingerly, at an attempt to soothe the poor guy. His heart drops when Cas looks at him, his eyes full of tears, his cheeks wet, and then he glances back at the grave.

"I love you, Dean."

Dean's heart skips a beat.

Cas scrubs his face with his hand, removing his tears and rises to his feet. After he composes himself, he turns to Dean.  "When I said I loved him the moment I found him in Hell, I meant it." He looks at Castiel. "I've never loved anything or anyone more."

Cas turns and heads back to the jeeps. Dean and Castiel are both speechless, he has no idea what to even say to that. Cas lost the one person he’s ever loved, and Dean can’t even imagine how that feels. But to know it was him, his counterpart, makes Dean’s heart break even more so.

They silently get into their own jeeps and Dean starts her up, awaiting Cas to lead the way.

With a quick glance at Castiel to make sure he's ready, he begins to follow Cas down the road where two people are guarding the gate. They open it for them, and close it as soon as they drive through it.

He hates the silence between them, it fucking annoys him how thick the tension is. So what, it doesn't mean anything to them, right? So, _this_ Cas was in love with Dean, doesn't mean _his_ Castiel is, right? I mean, different fucking dimension.

But he can't help being moved, touched by it and he knows Castiel can feel it too. To hear that his own counterpart was in love with him… _Dean_ … it's probably fucking with him, or grossing him out. Either, or.

He's not saying a damn word though, so fuck it, Dean turns on the radio, only to hear annoying static and cringes.

"Here," Castiel says, handing Dean a cassette tape. Rush's _Greatest Hits_.

Dean smiles, wide. "Hell yeah!" and inserts it into the tape deck and once the beginning of Tom Sawyer starts, he turns it up and bobs his head, making Castiel flash a crooked smile.

The ride is bumpy as hell but they finally reach that fork and he notices Cas stop his jeep and get out. He comes to the driver's side of Dean's jeep as Dean rolls down the window.

"Hey. So, I just want you guys to make sure you know that there's no guarantee the portals are even in these spots. They are just areas Chuck and I both felt something… weird."

Castiel tilts his head. "Weird?"

"Yeah. Like, off. As if the energy and land didn't quite match up.” He raises his eyebrows at Castiel. “You know how you feel the harmony between land masses and the vibrations from it? Well, when you guys get closer, you'll know what I mean, Cas."

Castiel nods, and Dean looks at him and raises his eyebrows. "You can feel vibrations from the earth?"

Cas laughs. "Yes, he can. _We_ can. It's a thing." He pauses to wait for Dean to look at him. "Anyway, even if it's not the tears in dimensions, it's worth checking out anyway."

Dean frowns and slumps back in the driver's seat. "So this might be a big waste of our time, then?"

"What? No. I'm only warning you two that it may not be what we're looking for, but even if it's not, you should investigate it anyway. It could be important."

Dean looks at his Castiel who is giving Dean that look, the _“shut up and let's just go”_ look. "Okay, fine." He turns back to Cas, still standing outside his window. "Friday, Cas. We have until Friday."

He nods. "I know. And trust me, I understand the mission, I do. There's just more going on than just the dreams, Dean. Everything lately has been really weird, including that group of Croats that had been wandering aimlessly in the woods as if they were lost."

"So, what else has been going on? Other than that?"

"We can talk when we return. Even if these locations are indeed the tears, or one tear, there's preparation we need to take to seal it. We have tonight to talk and work that out." He looks at Castiel.

"Yes, it's a complicated," Castiel says, sighing.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Okay, then let's get a move on." He nods at Cas as he gives a salute and heads back to his jeep. Dean watches him turn left and he takes a right turn onto a smoother road that seems to be on a incline.

"He's right, you know." Castiel shifts, slightly in his seat to face Dean. "If there’s some kind of shift in the earth's energy at these locations, and they aren't tears, we should most definitely look into it."

Dean sighs. "I get that, but Cas, we're only here for a few days. We don't have time to go on Goonie adventures when we have a goddamn dimension barrier to fix."

Castiel opens his mouth to speak, but pauses and glances out the window. Dean focuses on the road, but is taking quick peeks at him, wondering if he's going to say anything.

Then he inhales, and says, "Yes, you're right but whatever's happening here, it can be happening in our world too. If we can identify it, we'd actually be ahead of the game."

Oh he's right, as usual. "Yeah, okay. Good point."

The rest of the way is smooth until they take that left after the curve and the road becomes a lot more harsh. He drives them until the end and shuts off the jeep, twirling the keys in his fingers. "Ready?"

Castiel nods, and they exit the vehicle, heading to the back. Dean opens it up and he fills their backpacks with the food Cas packed for them. _What a guy._ Dean grabs three water bottles each, shoving them in each backpack and then closes them up, handing one to Castiel.

"According to the map, we should stay northeast, and oh yeah," Castiel reaches in his pocket, pulling out a compass. "Chuck gave me this."

"Awesome," Dean says, giving Castiel a once over. T-Shirt, this one plain but it looks like it's been washed one too many times, with his chest holster that has two side arms and one shotgun along his back, regular denim jeans, with the thigh holster carrying two blades, and Dean's smitten right now.

When Castiel had asked him if he liked this look better on him, he wasn't lying when he said no. It's not better, it's different, and Dean loves it on him. There's nothing wrong with changing it up and for some reason, Castiel wears this look so goddamn well. No, it's not because he looks more like this Hippy Cas, because he doesn't necessarily, sans the clothes. He looks like his Castiel, just ready to go into battle and it's all levels of hot.

Dean checks his own holsters, making sure the straps are secure, before throwing the backpack over his shoulders. They begin on a trail that's probably not a trail at all, but it's a good start. Dean checks his watch, 9 a.m. and already the heat and humidity is getting to him. He takes off his flannel and wraps it around his waist, and then wipes his brow with his forearm.

"Damn, it's starting to feel like a jungle out here," Dean says, turning back to Castiel who is actually sweating now too. He's suddenly back in Purgatory, and they’re trekking through those thick woods, fighting any monster that was dumb enough to try and take them on. He remembers thinking back then that he might not even make it to that damn portal.

Now here they are again, minus one vampire, in search of a goddamned tear in dimensions.

"I think it will rain," Castiel says, catching up to Dean.

"Well that will suck."

They're making good time, the woods open up a bit and the trails are easier to spot, even if they're nature made. After a couple of hours, Dean's hungry as hell and he finds a nice big rock to sit down on and rest his feet. Swinging his backpack around to his lap, he opens it, finding a piece of jerky, tearing open the wrapper, and taking a bite.

Castiel takes his place next to Dean and does the same, except he chooses the protein bar. Dean turns to him, watching him eat that damn thing like it's a filet mignon.

"It's weird, seeing you eat all the time now," Dean tells him.

Castiel swallows and looks at Dean, expressionless. "I rather enjoy it. I miss the taste of food. It's quite different when I’m fully powered up."

"Oh? How so? Dean asks before taking another bite of his jerky and opening up a water bottle, chugging some down. The water is already room temperature, but he doesn't care, it's still refreshing in this heat.

"I guess we can taste everything. All the molecules. Whereas, now, I just taste the combination of sweet, salt, and I think some kind of processed vegetable."

Chuckling, Dean says, "Still more than I taste when eating those things."

Castiel smiles at him. "Dean."

Dean stops chewing and looks at Castiel. His face looks long, worried, and this can't be good. "What's up?"

"About this morning-"

"Look, Cas. It's fine. So we slept a little, uh, close. It's no big deal."

Castiel takes a drink from his water bottle and then eyes Dean, curiously. "You're not possessed are you? You're still Dean Winchester, born January 24th, 1979?"

This makes Dean smile. "Anyone else I would have woken up with like that, they would have gotten a throat punch."

Castiel laughs hard at that, and yeah, there it is, the most amazing sound and sight in the world, and Dean has to look away before really getting too lost in it. "I'm relieved. I didn't want you to be upset, thinking I was trying to take advantage of… well…"

"Yeah, yeah, it's cool. Shit happens."

They share a smile and finish their snacks before taking off again through the woods toward the first mark on the map. Dean wishes he could wipe the smile off of his face, but that conversation was so awkward and funny, it's making him giddy. It's also reminding him of how he felt when he woke up this morning, and yeah, that was a pretty damn good feeling.

He's lived his life as the protector, as the one who always made sure everyone around him felt sheltered and secure. He hasn't really had anyone else give it back to him, not like that, not like Castiel did this morning. Despite the desires, and they were there, he was wrapped in his arms and it's been something he hasn't felt very often.

Safe. Cherished.

With the events of this morning on his mind, they continue on, resting a few times, laying the map out, ensuring they're going in the right direction. Another couple of hours and they see what looks like a small hill of loose rock. Dean looks down at the map, then back up.

"I think that's it."

When he goes to ask Castiel if he feels anything, he sees that he has stopped and he is looking down to the ground. He begins to waver and that's when Dean rushes to his side to catch him before he falls.

"Woah, Cas what's going on?"

Castiel grips Dean's shoulder tightly and shakes his head. "This area, it's… not right. Something is-" He drops to his knees and Dean goes with him, still holding him by the shoulders.

"Cas, talk to me. Hey, look at me."

"It's not supposed to be here." Castiel's head snaps up and he glares at the rock hill. "There, Dean. It's there."

Dean follows his gaze and looks back at Castiel. "What? the tear?"

"I don't… I don't know. We should go there. I need to see it."

Castiel struggles to get to his feet but Dean holds him down. "Oh no you're not. Just catch your breath and pull yourself together first. You look like you're gonna pass out."

"I'm fine, Dean," Castiel says, grimly and pushes Dean off of him as he rises to his feet. Dean stands close, just in case, and watches Castiel walk slowly in the direction of the area that's making him like this.

"Dude, you're walking right into it. Can you just chill for a minute?"

"Keep up," Castiel says, not looking back. "I'm perfectly fine, I was just taken by surprise, is all."

Dean walks right behind him, ready to catch him if he pulls that shit again. He appears to be okay for now, even as they get closer to the area. They have to climb over some fallen rocks to get there, but once they reach it, Castiel stills, resting his hand on a moss covered boulder.

"I see," Castiel says, barely audible and if Dean wasn't standing so close to him, he wouldn't have heard him.

"Wanna share with the class?"

Castiel turns to him, eyes a little wider than usual. "This isn't a tear, this is an actual displacement. This area belongs to another dimension, or used to. Now it belongs here."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "And how in the hell is that possible?"

Castiel's attention is back on the rocks, his hands brushing across them as if he's soothing an animal. "The Darkness is breaking down barriers, and while it would be nearly impossible to combine all dimensions, some parts are being displaced. Permanently."

Dean shakes his head. _What?_ "What's the point of moving pieces of land to another dimension?"

"It's not intentional, I'm pretty sure of that. It must just be the consequences of what the Darkness is doing."

Dean touches the rocks to see if he gets any _feeling_ from it but no, nothing. Nada. So the Darkness is breaking down barriers, sending pieces of land and God knows what else to other dimensions, and this just got a whole lot scarier.

"Cas, what if… people are around, or animals? What if there's some guy sitting there when it happens?"

"He would either be atomized, or he'd survive and be very confused as to where he is. It's possible this has happened already."

"That's just," Dean shakes his head and exhales, dramatically, "fucked up, man. I mean, really."

"I agree," Castiel says with a nod.

Dean reaches for the walkie talkie and clicks the talk button. "Hey guys, you okay?"

He hears a beep and then, _"Yes Dean, we're at the spot. It's pretty bizarre, Cas is meditating over it, but he swears it's a land displacement."_

After he hears the beep, he clicks the talk button again, "Yeah same here. You think the other two spots are the same?"

 _"Not sure, but we should definitely check it out,"_ he hears Cas say into the walkie talkie.

"Alright, we're heading to the next spot. We'll check in once we're there."

It takes another two hours to reach the next area and Dean decides before even getting any closer, they need to eat something. This time he opts for the protein bar, and Castiel chooses the jerky. They find a flat area to sit, and he looks up at the sky, glad that the trees are providing much needed shade.

"It's too damn hot."

"Yes." Castiel bites into the jerky with his side teeth and Dean grins. "But there are clouds rolling in as well, as I said, we might be caught in the rain."

Dean looks upward and now notices the dark clouds closing in, and fuck, that's all they need. Then again, the rain might feel really good right about now. It could help the journey be a little more bearable, perhaps. And just like that, a raindrop hits his nose. Then another, and another, and now it's raining lightly down on them.

"Know it all," Dean teases.

Castiel smiles and lifts his head to the sky. "It feels good."

Dean stops mid chew and stares at his angel as the drops hit his eyelids, cheeks, lips, that are parted in a slight smile. Castiel, relishing in the very human feeling of rain hitting his face, and Dean's so absorbed in watching it, he doesn't realize that his water bottle is tipping and pouring into his lap. He jerks when he feels the wetness and grunts.

"Son of a bitch!"

Castiel looks at him and then chuckles. Dean smiles back at him and just like that, nothing matters. The rain, his now soaking wet crotch, the heat, or the fact that there's misplaced land. No, all that matters right now is the fact that he can stare at his angel and appreciate how utterly amazing he is.

And yeah, Dean's a goner.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So all the Destiel from last night's episode of SPN put me in such a happy, giddy mood (even though bad stuff happened and my God, please get Cas out of that situation) I won't say more because SPOILERS but anyway, because I am so elated, I will share this chapter early. It's a happy chapter so enjoy! xoxoxo

"You ready?" Dean says to Castiel as they get back on their feet. With a nod, Castiel pulls his backpack on and takes the lead, and Dean keeps a wary eye on him, in case he decides to do that dizzy thing again.

The closer they get, the harder it rains and Dean's pretty sure that mother nature has no intention of letting up. This new area is a circle of strange looking flora, like it really doesn't belong there and Dean's starting to think that maybe it's another displaced piece of land from God knows where. He watches Castiel's arms extend and he throws his head back, and as if in slow motion, he turns to Dean.

"This is another one, but… do you feel that?"

Dean shakes his head as he nears Castiel. "No, feel wh-" but then he does feel it. His skin is tingling, like an electric charge, and he's suddenly hit with a hard blow of emotion. He wants to cry and has no idea what the fuck about.

"Cas, what is this?"

His mind fills with thoughts of love, betrayal, loss, and it's swimming around and tugging at his heart and then once he's fully in that circle, he's dropping to his knees, utterly confused as to what in the hell is happening.

He sees flashes of Sam as a kid, him letting his dad down at not protecting Sam that night, he sees Lisa, Ben, the moment he asked Castiel to wipe their minds. He’s now with Cassie (and yes, he just connected the name) and her disgust with the life he leads. He can't blame her.

And all the others he had loved, let down, and yet here’s Castiel. By his side. Never giving up on him. Never holding grudges. Never expecting him to be anything else but himself.

Castiel is scanning the area, soon taking his place next to Dean. "Some land's energy is filled with different emotions from the humans that lived on it. It's more profound when displaced because it's not used to being here."

Dean looks up. "So, the land is… alive?"

"In a sense, yes. Don't think of it as something walking and talking. It's more of an energy."

Castiel is sitting crossed-legged now, just staring at Dean, head tilted, and eyebrows arched. Dean makes eye contact with him and his stomach flips - oh about a thousand times. "And the people here were sad?"

"I'm not sure. A lot went on here, and it was so strong that it affected the earth itself. Maybe they performed rituals here, I'm guessing some that dealt with the death of loved ones."

Dean thinks about that for a moment. "So, we're actually sitting on some sort of mystical piece of land? Like a Stonehedge?"

Castiel laughs. "I guess, sort of. There are places all over the globe that hold powerful energy. Mystics, witches, are all drawn to it for its ability to listen, obey, and absorb, in this case. I do wonder what dimension this was from and where it would be in relation to our world."

"Like the same place, just different plane of existence?" Dean's brain is starting to hurt.

"Yes, although not every dimension is parallel to ours. Some can be rather different. Land of snow, land of fire, giants, Minotaurs…"

Dean's head snaps back. "For real? Those are real?"

"In another plane, yes. Mostly everything you've read about in stories, fairy tales, do exist somewhere. Where do you think the stories came from?"

"What? Like seriously, Cas?"

Castiel smiles. "And you're shocked when more than half of it, you have fought one time of another."

"Ha, right," Dean says, feeling the weight of this place, a heaviness that's crushing down on him, and he doesn't like it one bit. "Gonna call Cas and Chuck."

He pulls out his walkie talkie. "Hey guys." He waits for a response and when they don't answer, he tries again. "Yo, Cas, Chuck, come in."

Finally, "Dean, hey, any luck?" Chuck says from the other side of the device.

"Another displaced land. You?"

"We're not sure, we haven't reached the next location yet. It's further than we originally thought. If you guys are done, just head back to your jeep and we'll meet you at the fork where we separated."

"Roger," Dean says with a smirk, looking at Castiel who is not amused.

"Shall we?" Castiel says, rising to his feet.

"Yes, we shall."

They move to the edge of the circle and for some reason, they can't go any further, it's like they're stuck but there's nothing there holding them back. Dean moves his foot to cross, but it just remains in the same spot.

"Why can't we leave?"

Castiel shakes his head and moves to the other side of the circle, turning to Dean. "It's like I want to, but I can't find the reason to."

"Yeah, like we should stay here, but I have no idea why."

They both look at each other and Dean knows he should panic but he doesn't. It's okay. They can just sit here, maybe talk - all day even, and it won't matter. Sure it's pouring now, and they should be getting back to their jeep, but this is nice. Really nice.

"Not so bad, huh," Dean says to Castiel and he nods.

They sit back down on the wet ground, Dean pulling at the grass and weeds that seem to be a bit overgrown. He looks at Castiel and wants to tell him everything. How he feels, what's been going on with him, everything, but then Castiel turns his body to face him, clearing his throat.

"This is the most beautiful place I've ever been to, Dean."

Dean inhales the fresh smell of rain mixed with soil and some kind of earthy flowery scent he can't make out. It makes zero sense why they’re both suddenly in some kind of euphoria when just seconds ago, Dean felt like he was mourning for the death of someone he doesn’t even know.

"Totally." Smiling at Castiel, he adds, "I have no idea why, I mean, this is kinda weird but, I don't care."

Castiel chuckles and nods. "Yes, there is no logical reason why we would want to remain here, or why we can't leave, but who cares."

They both laugh harder and Dean falls back, letting his head hit the grass, weeds tickling his cheeks and then Castiel does the same, closing his eyes from the falling rain. He’s giddy. Happy. And he stopped asking why.

“You know, with all that’s happening, the Darkness, Metatron, and now that we’re here, in a dimension where Sam actually said yes to Lucifer, I wonder how differently things could have gone if I said yes to Michael.

“Dean.” Castiel clears his throat. “Don’t even talk about that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I think it’s just weird, you know? Like, in this reality, Sam and I separated, we hadn’t talked for years before he made that choice. In ours, I knew that was a bad idea and as soon as I came back, I made sure to have him by my side.”

Dean sighs, hating to even think of this time, but now that they’re in the very place where he did learn a lesson, not one that Zach wanted him to, but his own lesson that being apart is the wrong way. Together they’re stronger.

“I’m glad we did things our way, Cas. I'm glad we’re a team. You, me, Sam. Team Free Will.”

He sees a smile creep up Castiel’s face. It’s such a beautiful thing to witness; Castiel’s entire face lights up when he smiles and it has always made Dean turn into a lovesick fool.

“My decision to stay by your side was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Dean’s face heats up. _Damn, Cas and his words._ “Oh yeah?”

Castiel chuckles.

“You know, Cas, these last few years have been so screwed up. I never-- I just want you to know that you’re important to me. Even if at times I act like a self absorbed jackass.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says, warmly. “And it’s the same for me. When I leave, disappear, well, I want you to know that I’m always paying attention. I hear you, your prayers, your--” He pauses and swallows, making Dean furrow his eyebrows.

“My what?”

Castiel inhales, deeply before saying, “Well, when you need me, I can tell.”

Dean feels his heart speed up, but he’s pretty sure the kind of _need_  Castiel is referring to is not the kind that leaves them both naked and in bed together. “Uh, that’s cool. Because of our bond, huh,” Dean says more as a statement than a question.

“Yeah, yeah, the bond,” Castiel confirms, but appearing twitchy.

Maybe hours pass but Dean can't tell, could only be minutes, it all feels the same right now, but time doesn't matter because he's staring at Castiel and he doesn't want to stop, like ever. When he turns to him and smiles, Dean does everything in his power not to lean over and kiss him.

He doesn't even care about the rain, or being soaked from head to toe. It feels good, so good, and this spot is unbelievably relaxing. He sighs, sitting up, wondering what time it is. Not that he cares, he's just curious. A little.

Castiel sits up as well and then his face suddenly turns grim. "Dean, we're stuck here."

"Yeah, I know. But it's okay."

Castiel is shaking his head, eyebrows arched, he looks totally terrified, and it's starting to make Dean feel the same way.

_Stop it, Cas, you're ruining the moment._

"No, this isn't good. We're-we're going to die out here," Castiel says, his voice full of panic.

"Come on, Cas. This place is great, it's paradise, it's--" Dean begins to feel it too, the heaviness. _They're going to fucking die._ "Cas, what's happening now?"

They've gone from sadness, to ultimate bliss and acceptance, to panic and gloom. "It's my fault, I should have know, my powers, they're-- I led us into a trap, Dean."

Dean swings around to face Castiel and places his hands on his shoulders. "Calm down, you didn't do anything. We're not trapped, it's just some sort of magic or something. Come on, let's get up and try to leave."

Dean rises and extends his hand to Castiel, helping him to his feet. They share a look before walking to the edge of the circle, but like before, they just can't seem to cross that line.

"Son of a--"

"You're going to die here, like the other Dean, and it will be all my fault. How could I have done this?"

Dean scrubs his face. "It's not-- I'm not gonna die. There's gotta be a way to get the hell off of this damn piece of land."

He reaches for his walkie talkie. "Guys, we need help. Are you done with your investigation?"

There's nothing but a silence. He's tries again a few more times, this time he’s shouting, but no response.

"They're not going to come because you're going to die and then I will die, eventually, but I will be alive to see you die and how-how am I going to live with that?"

Dean inhales. He's been under pretty much every kind of mind control, weird spells, mojo that makes you feel things that you normally wouldn't, or to enhance hidden feelings you may have, and this feels exactly like it.

"Cas, calm down. I think this area is like enchanted or something. It's making us feel things."

"Whatever it is, I'm responsible for your death, Dean. Me. I can't-I can't bear the thought, oh Dean." Castiel is trembling and it sets Dean's nerves ablaze. He's never seen Castiel like this, not really, and he's starting to freak the fuck out, himself.

"This isn't you, Cas. You never panic like this. Just breathe and think for a second, what kind of land can be enchanted like this? To make people feel--"

"He seems fine on the outside, but I know, I just know he's dying, slowly. He will never recover from it. Ever."

"Who?” Dean rakes his bottom lip. “What the fuck are you talking about, Cas?"

"Cas, the one from here. He lost Dean. He will suffer for as long as he lives in this human existence."

Dean raises his eyebrows, and okay, Castiel relating to Cas, he can see where this is going and as touched as he is, he can't let Castiel freak out because when that happens, Dean's not even sure he'd be able to hold himself together.

He can feel the tug, the pull from the land. It wants him to worry and go crazy. It wants him to feel hopeless. _Fuck, what an opposite feeling from just a few minutes ago!_

"Cas, look at me," Dean grabs hold of Castiel's shoulders again and grips tightly. He locks his eyes on him until Castiel looks at him, exhaling slowly, showing him at least a smidgen of calm. This all would be so much easier to deal with if that damn rain wasn't showering down on them, relentlessly.

"Please help me try to get to the bottom of this, okay?"

It's like Castiel isn't hearing a damn word he's saying. He's looking at him, but he's just shaking his head, and now tears are welling in his eyes. _No no no,_ this isn't happening. Dean wants to slap him back into reality, but he's struggling with his own crazy head right now.

"The timeline, it was me, before the split in the timeline, Dean. It's me, _us_ , before our futures changed, and--"

"What," Dean sighs, "are you talking about?"

"Us, before Zach sent you here the first time, that was when it split, but before that, it was us. You and me, Dean. The things Cas is talking about, it's still me. And you…"

Castiel pulls away and backs up, scanning the area, and Dean has no idea what to do at this point. He wishes he knew what Castiel is trying to say. He wishes he has a damn clue what in the hell was going on.

"Cas, this is getting really annoying. Fucking, pull yourself together. Now," Dean says, loudly, glaring at his distraught angel. Castiel stops and looks at him, the saddest Dean thinks he has ever seen him.

"He loved you, from the moment he pulled you from Hell. But that's- that's me, Dean. He's talking about _me_ , and _you_. To hear him say that, I could never say it, and you had to hear it, so you know, you know… I can't--"

Dean swallows. _Holy shit._ Like really, _holy goddamned shit._ The timeline, he gets that now. Everything Hippy Cas talked about prior to the split in the timeline was _them._ Him and his Castiel. Dean's face is on fire. He has no idea what to say or do, and this is Castiel admitting, what? That he loves him?

But of course they love each other, that's not even anything new, but this kind of love, how Hippy Cas said it, how Castiel is reacting now, this ain't brotherly type love and now Dean's heart is racing so fast, he's pretty sure he may have a damn heart attack.

He turns from Castiel, lowering his head, and trying to breath. "Cas," he says without looking at him.

"It's true Dean. How can I just watch _this_ Cas mourn over Dean, when I know the truth about how he feels. I know it because I feel it. It's in me, Dean. In _me_ , too."

Dean turns to him and Castiel has actually tears streaming down his cheeks. _Dammit._

"Cas, this is the enchantment. You need to--"

"It's not the enchantment, dammit," Castiel shouts, his voice hoarse and broken. "Don't pretend you didn't hear what he said, because I know you did, Dean."

Dean walks slowly to him, trembling, unsure of how to even handle this. Should he hug him? Punch him? Is this even happening? Yeah, he heard _that_ Cas say it, now that Castiel mentions the timeline split, it makes sense. It's them.

_It’s fucking them._

"Right. Okay. It's us, it's you, but right now, Cas, we need to figure out how to get out of this, okay? Can you help me with this?"

Castiel is frozen, staring at Dean as the tears continue to fall down his cheeks. "And I will mourn you as he mourns his Dean. I will have to endure a life without you. What kind of life is that, Dean?"

 _For fuck's sake._ "Right, and I _will_ die if you don't fucking help me now, Cas."

This gets Castiel's attention and he wipes his face (good that'll do in this rain) and nods. "Yes, we can find a way to save you. I can save you, Dean. I pulled you from Hell, I can do this, I can save you."

Dean sighs with relief. _FINALLY._ He approaches the other side of the circle and tries to cross it, and can't. But he's not even thinking about why he can't right now, he's thinking about what Castiel just told him. He said it, in his own way, that he loves him, and Dean wants to really talk more about this.

He wants to tell him the truth too, about how he feels, but can he even say it? Can he even say it back to Castiel? He's never told anyone that since his mother. The words sound foreign to him, even in his own mind.

But this is Castiel, and he's always there for him, and Dean does love the son of a bitch, and really, Castiel should know, right? Or at least how much Dean thinks about him, how much he desires him.

He should know that he fantasizes about him all the time. Can he say this? This force here is causing him to really want to, like he has to confess it all, and keeping it in will cause something really bad to happen. _Really bad._

Before he can stop himself, he turns around and Castiel's eyes are on him. "I was awake."

_Shut up Dean. Shut the fuck up. But he has to know. Castiel should know._

Castiel tilts his head. "What?"

"This morning. I was awake and-- and aroused. I wanted you, and I didn't care you were behind me, thrusting against me; it turned me on. If you hadn't gotten out of bed, I might have tried something."

_What. The. Fuck. Did I just say?_

Castiel's nostrils flare. "You, what? You let me be awkward all day and you _liked it?"_

 _Oh shit!_ He wants to sew his mouth shut but, "Yeah, sorry, I didn't know how to-- look, it's as confusing to me as it is to you, just so you know."

Castiel chuckles which turns into a downright holler. "I was so worried, and you were really aroused?" he manages to say in between laughter.

"Yes."

If Dean's stomach flips one more damn time-- but seeing Castiel so utterly amused makes Dean laugh as well, and now they're both cracking up.

"Oh."

“It wasn’t the first time, you know, that I wanted to-- Cas, I’ve been-- well, for years, I wanted to--”

Of course words fail him, even when he’s under some kind of mojo that’s making him say all of this. Is it all true though? Hell yeah it is.

“Dean. This is just unbelievable. We have been so stupid.”

Time could very well be slowing down, or maybe it has stopped altogether. Both are very possible, because what Dean's feeling now is as if he and Castiel are the only two people left in the world, stuck on some enchanted piece of land, admitting things they wouldn't have in a million years, and Castiel is looking at him, something warm and inviting in his eyes, as he walks slowly toward Dean.

Dean feels the ball of nerves move from his stomach to his throat, and he swallows, thickly. He has no idea what's happening, or what's about to happen, but Castiel is so close to him now, looking up with those eyes that go on forever. He blinks his wet lashes and Dean's lost in the sight of him, just like that. He doesn't need magic for him to react this way to Castiel. It's there, it's always been there.

"What does it mean, Dean?"

He knows he's supposed to respond but he has no idea how to speak at the moment. He inhales, shakily, trying to bring himself back down to earth and says, "I don't know."

Okay, not really poetic but…

"What would you have tried if I remained in that bed?"

Castiel's voice is lower than usual, that raspy tone, making the butterflies go wild in his stomach. The heat from his chest shoots straight down to his groin, and now he’s imagining exactly what he _would_ have done this morning, if he had the damn guts to have gone through with it.

Fuck, where should he even start?

There's obviously something with the magic here that's allowing them to talk like this, to break down those walls, barriers, that he knows he and Castiel have, and let them just be honest. It's strange, and Dean isn't sure if he will vomit or pass out, but at the same time, it's fucking awesome. Maybe they needed something like this to give them a push. Maybe.

And maybe Dean is also reeling at the fact that Castiel might very well have been feeling the same way about him. He wants to elaborate on the 'pulling him out of Hell thing' and know for sure, once and for all, what the hell is going on inside Castiel's heart.

Dean inches closer to him and flashes a pirate smile. "You really want to know?"

Castiel nods, licking his lips. "Yes."

 _Hey heart, can you fucking calm down for a minute_? "I would have rolled over, moved my body closer to you, so I could feel your heat…"

Castiel's cheeks redden, pupils dilating, his chest heaving as his breathing speeds up. Dean continues, still wearing a sly smile. "Then I would have grabbed your face and kissed you, maybe softly at first, to get an idea of how you like it.”

They're only inches apart now and Dean feels like he's floating. Is this real? Is anything actually really happening? Or did he get knocked out somehow and he's dreaming all of this. That would explain this conversation between him and Castiel, that he knows he'd be too chicken shit to even have in the first place, and an enchanted circle that brings out your inner most feelings? Oh, and that won't let you move from its circle? Yeah, gotta be a dream.

And fuck it, he'll take it.

"Like this?" Castiel says before taking Dean's face in his hands _\- holy shit, holy shit -_ and kisses him, exactly how Dean described it. Soft, chaste, and Dean's head is about to explode. Castiel's lips are so warm, so soft, and about a million jolts of electricity coming from them. He feels tiny sparks against his lips and never in his life has a kiss felt like this.

It's only when Castiel pulls away that Dean has some relief from the electrical charge. They meet each other's gaze and Dean wishes he had something cool to say, but instead he stutters before saying, "That-that was--"

He cuts himself off to kiss Castiel back, a little hungrier this time and he can hear Castiel gasp once their lips meet. It's so good, so delicious, and he tastes like the sweetest piece of candy he's ever eaten.

He feels Castiel's hands on his hips and he places his own on the angel's face, gently thumbing his stubble. This is awesome, intense, and bless this goddamned piece of land for making it happen.

He can’t help but see it all in his mind now. How they met, the first words exchanged, how blown away Dean had been seeing some bad ass angel appear before him. The shadows of his wings, the damn lightning and thunder and all the sparks overhead.

His blue eyes looking up at him, his face so close to his, because he had no idea what personal space was back then. How his stare burned into Dean’s soul, invading him in all the right ways, but of course Dean didn’t understand it back then.

It was a mystery. _He_ was a mystery.

But he was changed, even then. Castiel felt something for Dean when he pulled him out of the pit and Dean wishes, _God_ he wishes that he knew. He’s trying to think back to all the times they shared, all the conflict too, and the whole time, Castiel was in love with him.

This knowledge not only gives Dean the warm fuzzies, it breaks his heart too. How many times he pushed his angel away, yelled at him, scolded him, treated him so horribly. He doesn’t want to even imagine what he had been going through, feeling what he felt and having Dean be a total asshole to him.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Castiel's moaning in his mouth and it makes his heart skip a beat. The kissing becomes more passionate and now tongues are involved, invading each other's mouths, dancing together, wet and hot. _This can't ever end. This kiss needs to last forever._

The past isn’t important. Whatever they did, or didn’t do is not his concern, because they’re here now, kissing, admitting feelings that have been buried for far too long. _Love._ They love each other and call him a silly romantic, but that’s all that matters right now.

Dean presses his chest against Castiel's, moving his hands to his shoulders, pulling him as close as possible, while Castiel's hands grip Dean's shirt, fisting the fabric in a frenzy of fingers, and cotton. They pull apart, only to catch their breath, and then close the distance between them again, drowning in each other's heat.

Hands caressing, groping, their hard chests pressed together, tongues and lips begging for more attention. That's when they hear voices shouting at them, but it seems so far away, like echoes from another time and place. Castiel pulls back and turns his head, eyes widening, so Dean follows his gaze to see Cas and Chuck standing there, both wearing huge grins.

"Shit guys, can't you hear us?" Chuck asks.

Castiel and Dean step back away from each other a little, Dean's face on fire. "Uh, we didn't know… we didn't hear you guys."

Cas chuckles. "You guys are on enchanted earth. It's pretty powerful, so uh, yeah."

Castiel, looking more awkward than ever says, "We can't seem to leave. It wants us to stay."

Cas and Chuck share a look and they both shrug. They step toward the circle but Dean holds his hands out to stop them. "No wait, don't, you won't be able to--"

Cas and Chuck are already in the circle, and Cas is smiling. "Try and leave now."

Dean looks at Castiel, furrowing his brow, but says, “Fuck it.” He tries to leave the circle, and just like that, he does. He's out. Castiel watches with wide eyes and does the same and is now standing next to Dean.

"I swear we couldn't before," Dean tells them.

"I know. It's an interesting enchantment. I'll tell you both more about it later. For now, let's get out of here."

They make their way back to the jeep and the whole walk there, Dean can barely even look Castiel in the eye. Was it magic that made Castiel want to kiss him? He doesn't want to think that was all it was, but truth be told, he's never thought his angel was ever interested in him like this - and fuck his life if he was able to finally kiss him because it was a damn spell.

Magic sucks. Dean’s always hated it. But there was something about this that felt less icky. He’s not sure why, but it wasn’t as if something controlled him, he knew everything that came out of his mouth, he was aware of everything he was doing, it just felt easier. Easier to say things like he did without the usual bullshit screams to keep it all inside.

But that kiss, damn, that kiss was the best kiss Dean’s ever had in his entire life and if it wasn’t mutual, if Castiel really didn’t want this, Dean is pretty sure his heart will never recover from that. This is the man, the angel, whatever, that he’s been in love with for years, the one person that he can’t ever get off his mind. There isn’t anyone that even comes close to that level of affection that Dean feels for Castiel.

It’s on this special level, reserved just for him, and he will be destroyed if none of it was supposed to happen. If Castiel will just tell him what a mistake it was, and that they can only be friends. He’s fine with remaining friends and not taking it to that next level, sure. But if Castiel didn’t want that kiss, he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to look at him in the eyes again.

Dean breathes deeply when they reach the jeep, for he knows the ride back will be just him and Castiel and he really has no fucking idea what to say. _Hey, Cas. Sorry I made out with you even though I know you'd never want that, and I took advantage of the situation and I'm a giant asshole..._

Was it a non consensual make out session because Castiel was under some sort of mojo that made him want that? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He didn't-- he would never ever want to put Castiel in a situation like that, and really, he wishes he could just disappear right now. The guilt gnawing at him for doing something he'd never thought he'd do is starting to make him sick to his stomach.

The other Cas takes the lead in his jeep and Dean starts her up, pulling out onto the bumpy road. He contemplates putting on the radio, but decides to keep it off for now. He's not in a good mood, he feels like complete shit, and he should apologize. Yes, he needs to tell his best friend he's sorry for taking advantage of him while he was under a magical mind fuck.

"Listen, Cas," Dean starts, looking between the road and Castiel, "What we did, uh, I need to apologize."

"For what, Dean?"

Dean sighs. "For letting that happen. That magic, it made you--  and I should have stopped you. I shouldn't have reciprocated. The last thing I'd ever want to do is try to get over on you, use you while you were obviously vulnerable to the magic and--"

"Oh my God, Dean," Castiel shouts, before cracking up. Dean glances at him, briefly, and he's totally confused right now.

"You," Castiel turns to him, "are an idiot."

"Gee, thanks," Dean says, shaking his head. At least he's not trying to smite him, so that's a plus.

"I _wanted_ to kiss you, not because of the enchantment. That land just made it happen, whereas normally I would have been too shy to try."

Dean swallows. _Did he just say..._

Castiel continues, "Everything that was said and done was something I've always-- I held back a lot, Dean. And I can see you did as well. This wasn't a mind control type of magic, this was something that allowed us to feel as we truly feel. Tap into our truest desires."

 _Thank fucking God and wait…_ "So, the whole pulling me out of Hell, thing?"

"I think we should talk later, after we both have had a decent meal and shower.”

He rests his hand on Dean’s shoulder and it causes Dean to lose focus for a second. “There's obviously much to discuss, but if you need to know, at least for the ride home, that yes, Dean. It's all true. It's me. It's how I feel. I've loved you since I pulled you from Hell, just as Cas said it."

The heat rising in Dean is starting to make him sweat. This is all just too damn crazy. He looks at Castiel, who is smiling at him, and he seems lighter now, happy that it happened, elated actually, and Dean feels a huge load off of his chest.

So they shared something that probably would have taken them another 7 years to actually share. "And you've wanted to kiss me, I mean, before?"

"Every time I saw you. Every time I thought of you, yes."

Dean has no idea what to say, so he just smiles. This is truly mind blowing, trying to wrap his mind around it all is going to take some time. He smiles wider when Castiel puts in the Rush cassette and _Closer To The Heart_ starts.

Ah, if songs could read their minds…

So, it was all a good thing; them kissing, Castiel revealing his love. Dean will do the same, he will, but now, he just wants to relish in the reality that Castiel wants him as much as he wants Castiel, and he finally got his first kiss with him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a quick mention of suicide, just FYI.

"Our last one was most definitely a tear. It wasn't a big one though, the energy wasn't strong enough to move people through, but there's no doubt in my mind it will be growing," Cas tells them as he offers a warm cup of - Dean takes a sip - tea.

"Alright, good. So we go back, close it up before it gets any bigger, and problem solved," Dean says, trying to focus on the very important conversation between them but finds it impossible to get that kiss out of his head. Every time he thinks of Castiel's lips on his, he feels it all over again, and when he glances at Castiel, his stomach flips.

They didn't talk about it again during the ride back and as soon as they reached the camp, Cas and Chuck were herding them into his cabin for a much needed discussion about what they found and what the next step is. Now here they are, sitting around Cas' table, with tea and cookies - not that Dean's complaining, but he'd rather just be alone with Castiel and continue that damn kiss.

"Agreed. I have all the ingredients for the spell, it's a process though."

Dean looks at Cas. "Process? We need to close the damn thing. Tomorrow would be safest since Friday we leave and I sure as hell don't want to be in the middle of doing it when we have to go."

"Oh, yes tomorrow, for sure. I meant the process for the spell. I need to prepare some of the items, do certain small ritualistic bindings, that sort of thing. I will do it tonight."

Dean sips his tea and he figures now is a good time to ask about what in the holy fuck happened to them on that piece of land. "So, that enchanted area, care to explain?"

Cas smiles and to Castiel, he says, "Cas, that time in Mesopotamia when the elder priests caused that small area to come alive, the place they prayed..."

Castiel nods. "Yes, that is what I thought. Similar to that."

"Not just similar, it _was_ that. The land that belonged to another dimension, yes, and whatever rituals were performed there, probably thousands of years worth, has turned that land mystical."

Dean and Castiel share a look and Dean leans in on an elbow. "Yeah, I get that, but why did we feel all the… and not being able to leave, what was that about?" Dean asks him.

"Sometimes the energy of the land has a mind of its own. There were many feelings radiating from it. Love, fear, sadness, and I guess you both felt all of it. But it wasn't satisfied with your feelings until you gave in to it, completely, and I'm guessing that was the kiss."

Dean swallows. "So, it wanted us to kiss?"

Cas grins at him. "It wanted you to two to open up and share what's hidden deep inside. When you did, the land was pleased and let you go."

"It can do that?" Dean asks, furrowing his brow.

"It most certainly can. You just experienced it for yourself."

Dean blows air through his lips and looks at Castiel. Everything is out of the bag. Their feelings, inner desires are now exposed, revealed, and Dean doesn't know what to do with that. He wanted it, he really- _really_ wanted it to happen, but now it's all too much too fast.

When being with Castiel was just a thought, a wish that he kept hidden deep within his heart, it was easy, because he knew that if it ever did happen, there'd be enough time to process it. But now that they kissed, and said things, there's no turning back. It's either they do or don't.

If they take it further, there's risk of the shit hitting the fan, but if they don't, how the hell will he be able to get through the day to day without wondering, what if?

There's an awkward silence and then Chuck coughs, excusing himself from the table. "Guys, I'm going to head back to my place, get cleaned up, have dinner. I'll see you all first thing in the morning." He looks at Cas, "Just come wake me up."

Cas nods. "Will do."

Chuck is gone and the three of them move to Cas' couch - his request. He's eyeing them anxiously and then he's on the couch in a split second, legs crossed, and already lighting a joint.

"So…"

Dean smirks. "So?"

"The kiss. You guys… what was it like?"

_Like being born again. Like staring at the sun, only it didn't hurt. It healed, cleansed, bathed me in light. Holy light. Cas’ light._

Castiel and Dean share an embarrassed look and both their faces are red now. His lips tingle at just the mention of it. Was it the best kiss he's ever felt? Hell yeah it was. Does he want to be kissing him every chance he gets now? Most definitely. Dean is still high from it and coming down is nowhere in sight.

"Awesome," they chorus and it makes Cas laugh, head rolling back and all.

"I bet." His smile fades. "I never did, you know. I always wanted to. Biggest mistake of my life."

 _“_ _It's all true. It's me. It's how I feel. I've loved you since I pulled you from Hell.”_

Dean rubs his hands together, nervously. He doesn't want to talk about this, not now, not yet. It's too new. It just happened and he still hasn't even processed it. He's sure Castiel feels the same, so he tries to think of a way to change the subject.

_Kissing Castiel, those lips, that heat… "What would you have tried if I remained in that bed?"_

"So, in the dreams, Cas, you said " _He_ is coming." Who is he? Who's after you?"

Castiel shifts and Dean notices that he trembles a bit. "He's… you."

Dean's head snaps back and he looks at the two Castiels back and forth. "Come again?"

"I didn't want to say anything 'cause you know, it might be a little strange, but yeah, he's you. But not _you_ , you. I can tell the difference. He's a… darker you."

"Darker?"

Great, how many versions of him are out there? He glances at his Castiel again and all the color in his cheeks fades. "Cas?"

"It's a darker Dean from another dimension? That must be terrible," Castiel says.

Cas nods. "It is. Of all the things I have seen inside Dean, this one is… different. No matter what state my Dean was in, he never looked like this." Cas looks up, as if seeing the image there. His eyes land back on Dean. "He has this weird tattoo on his arm."

Dean swallows. _Fuck._ "The mark of Cain?"

Cas blows the smoke out of his mouth. "Maybe. Here, let me draw it for you."

He grabs a notepad and a pencil from the coffee table and begins to draw what he had seen in his dreams. After a minute, he holds it up for Dean and Castiel and it’s not exact, but close enough.

"That's it," Castiel says, frowning. "Dean had the mark for two years, until we did a spell to remove it, unleashing the Darkness."

Cas' eyes grow wide. "So that's how? Why… how are they connected?"

"Because God made it that way. He locked up the Darkness with that mark and never bothered telling a damn person about it. Lucifer had it, drove him crazy, he gave it to Cain, and well, you know that story…" Dean says, sighing at the memory of Death telling him that story, just before he sunk his own scythe into him. He shivers. He can tell Castiel is staring at him but he just keeps his eyes locked on Cas as his expression changes from worry to shock.

"Well, that's a whole lotta… and why on earth would you get the mark of Cain?"

"He needed it to defeat Abaddon who was free and wreaking havoc, it was the only way, along with the first blade. Without the mark, the blade was useless," Castiel speaks for Dean, and thankfully, for he has no desire to even talk about this anymore. But if Cas is dreaming of Dean with the mark, and _that_ Dean is trying to kill him, he has the right to know everything. Even if it fucking hurts.

"Abaddon? Wow, you guys… and I thought my life was shit." He inhales the joint, and holds his breath for a few seconds, before exhaling and coughing. "And did you?” Another cough. “Kill her, I mean?"

"Yeah, then I went after Metatron. He killed me, and I turned into a demon. It was this whole big thing," Dean says, casually, trying to hide his discomfort from it all.

"Jesus Christ." He turns to Castiel. "And what in the hell were _you_ doing?"

Castiel looks away, rolling his eyes upward and then focuses on Cas. Dean wants to lay a hand on his shoulder, maybe rub his back, hold his hand? He's not sure why in the hell he's suddenly so okay with doing shit like this when just a week ago he would have gotten drunk just at the thought.

But he never really heard Castiel's side of it, what he felt during that whole thing. What it did to him, how it affected him. Wow, he never fucking asked him once, _not one time_ , how he dealt with that train wreck. Dean's harshly reminded of the dick he's always been.

"I was on borrowed grace, I tried to remain… well I was burning out. It wasn't easy and if I had gone after him, things might not have turned out very well for me."

Castiel doesn't look at him. He can't blame him.

"Oh, I bet. It must have killed you, huh? First the mark, becoming a demon? Jeesh," Cas says, resting his chin on his hand.

"It hurt a great deal yes." Castiel finally turns to Dean and gives him that certain look, silently forgiving him. He knows that look too well, usually offered when one had to explain the other's misdeeds, or some other bullshit. Dean and Castiel have been down this road too many times.

"And how did you get cured of being a demon? I mean, you're not one now, so I'm assuming there was some reversal somehow?"

Dean nods. "Human blood injections. Blessed human blood. It works, we found out how to do it in the Men of Letters’ archives."

"No shit. That is so good to know." He takes another hit of his joint. "Okay, so what do I need to know about ‘mark of Cain Dean’? Insight would be helpful."

Castiel rests a hand on Dean's shoulder and it sends a chill through him, a good chill. He can do this. It’s over, he’s free from the effects of the curse. What had plagued him for two years, and progressively had gotten worse, is gone now.

"It was pretty awful. It was like I had two minds, two people living inside me and they hated each other." He pauses with a long drawn out sigh.

"The longer I had the mark, the worse I got, like sinking deeper into some fucked up abyss. By the end, I was so out of control. I--" Dean looks at Castiel, briefly. "I did some regretful things. I was ready to call it a day. End it all."

"Suicide?" Cas asks, swallowing.

"Well, it crossed my mind, yeah." He catches Castiel staring at him with wide eyes, shocked and he realizes that he never spoke of this. Not to Cas or Sam.  "But I couldn't, the mark made that impossible. I couldn't die, unless…" Dean runs a hand through his hair. He didn't think this would be so damn hard.

"I summoned Death, but I ended up killing him,” he finishes.

Cas coughs out the smoke he had been holding in. "You what?"

"It was him or Sam and well, you know how that goes."

Cas nods. "Oh yes. I do."

“Cas had been working with some other people to remove the mark all while this was going on.”

He looks at Castiel. "You'll always stick by him. That's just how we roll." He smiles and it reminds Dean of the time he came here years ago. His toothy grin, those words, and to hear him say that to _his_ Castiel is kind of mind blowing. Dean has a best friend who will walk with him until the end of days. That's so fucking important.

_“Everyone you know, everyone you love... they could be long dead. Everyone except me. I’m the one who will have to watch you murder the world. So if there’s even a small chance that we can save you, I won’t let you walk out of this room.”_

"I will. Always." Castiel smiles at Dean and… _what were they talking about again? Oh right, the fucking mark of Cain_.

"Anyway, about the removal spell, it was gone before it turned me completely darkside, but it let out the Darkness, and nobody wanted that," Dean finishes.

"Why is Dean trying to kill you, though? It seemed, with the mark, he was more thirsty for revenge and," Castiel looks down, "anyone that got in his way."

"Good question and no clue. Maybe it's just a fleeting thought he has now, and he's visiting me in my dreams to show me, but I know, something just tells me that he wants to fulfill this desire, but the ‘why’, I don't know," Cas tells him, rising from the couch.

"It makes no sense. I mean, I was angry and yeah, I might have lashed out, inappropriately, but I wasn't hell bent on ending Cas. I still knew he was my friend… I was just lost. Like, I had this rage filter and seeing red was pretty much me at any given time."

“If it’s Dean projecting his darkest thoughts, that might be what it is. But I can’t say for sure,” Cas says.

Dean thinks about that for a moment and he feels his head spin. That was a side of him that had been unpredictable and downright scary.

“We have tomorrow. We’ll close the portal and hopefully prevent Dean, _that_ Dean from coming here, if that’s his agenda.”

Dean nods at Cas. “Weird ass agenda, if you ask me. Makes no sense.”

“We don’t know what else has happened in his timeline, his dimension. There could have been events, circumstances to have made him darker than you were, Dean,” Castiel tells him, eyebrows arched.

“Good point,” Dean agrees. The Dean from this dimension wasn’t very cuddly so who the hell knows what this other guy has been through.

Cas stretches. _Don't look, Dean._ "Well, I need to shower and sleep. All this walking today and honestly, I haven't been on my feet like this in ages. I had some of my patrol come by and set you guys up you with dinner, so you should have a warm meal in your cabin right about now." Cas winks at Dean.

Dean rises with Castiel and he smiles. "Thanks Cas."

"Yes, thank you."

"No problem. Now you two go get cleaned up, enjoy your dinner, and please, for the love of God, do more of that smooching I saw, it totally looks good on you both." He grins at them turning their cheeks red.

So here it is, they are on their way to the cabin, to be alone, have dinner, and possibly continue where they left off and Dean's a big pile of nerves. What if he kisses too hard? What if they end up going further than that? And holy shit, what then? Could he go through with it; taking his fantasies and making them a reality? Part of him knows he's so chicken shit, he'll probably freeze up at the last second and turn tail.

Oh God, please do not let _that_ happen

 

* * *

 

Dean wants to laugh when he walks into the cabin and there are candles lit, a dinner waiting for them, and a record player with an Otis Redding album leaning against it. Cas didn't tell him he was setting up their evening like some romantic date or anything. A little heads up would have been nice.

He gets why Cas is so anxious about seeing him and Castiel together. Dean recognizes regret from missed opportunities all too well, and Cas is now living vicariously through _his_ Castiel. The Dean from his time never took the chance, and the look on his face when he saw them kissing was priceless.

He does understand it all, but it doesn't make it any less awkward. He eyes Castiel who is already stripping off his clothes and… uh…

"Woah there tiger, I'd like a little dinner first," Dean says, smirking. All lies, because if Castiel wanted him right now, he’d be 100% okay with it. Castiel glances at him briefly with a side smile and then heads to the bathroom to finish disrobing. _Oh, okay. Shower. Of course_. Now Dean feels like a complete idiot.

He's shaking his head when he walks over to the table; covered dishes are sitting on top of a hotplate, keeping it warm. He lifts the lid to see burgers, potatoes, cubed and seasoned, and green beans - obviously from a can, but he's not going to complain. His stomach is already begging for food, and on any other occasion he'd already be digging in, but he'll wait for Castiel. They'll eat together. Talk.

Because it's a date.

Dean laughs at that. There have been very few people in his life with whom he had the opportunity to actually have a date with, that didn't involve hand jobs under the table, or some other ulterior motive for sitting together and getting to know one another. Aside from those very rare occasions, Dean's dates ended when his singles ran out, and that was the way it's been for years.

He's grown accustomed to it. In and out. No strings attached. It's easier. He had a hell of a time letting go of Lisa, and he swore to never pull that shit with anyone, again. It's a lonely existence, yes, and deep down Dean does love having someone to wake up to, someone to eat dinner with, other than his damn brother. If things with Castiel actually become… more - and he really would love that - he's pretty sure that would be _it_ for Dean because imagining his life without his angel is not even an option.

He's next in the shower, and it feels good to wash away all the dirt and sweat from the day. He can’t help but rehearse what he will say to Castiel tonight. It makes him laugh, seeing how excited he is, and he hasn’t felt this way in ages. Or if ever.

When he comes out, Castiel is seated at the table in another washed out t-shirt - this one is Led Zeppelin, a pair of black sweatpants, and grey socks. Dean likes to be reminded that aside from his badassery, he's a man. A guy. And no matter what that means, it's the truth. The contrast between Castiel when they met, to the Castiel he knows now is huge. He's the most human-like angel Dean's ever met.

"Hurry up and get changed. I'm starving," Castiel whines, with a slight smile.

Dean obeys and pulls a shirt over his head and slips into a pair of sweats that are softer than anything he's ever owned in his life. Taking his seat at the table, they each grab a plate. Castiel starts eating immediately, while Dean takes a minute just to watch him.

Castiel looks up at him in mid chew, and says with a full mouth, "Aren't you gonna eat?"

Dean just smiles and takes a bite. _Damn, this is a good burger._ They eat in silence for most of the meal and when he feels he's almost satisfied, he sits back and picks at the remaining potatoes and green beans, rubbing his belly with his other hand.

"This was very nice of them. We've been treated well here so far," Castiel says, with a slight burp.

"Yeah, tell me about it. For an apocalypse, this sure as hell is a sweet get up."

Castiel nods, and sips his water. "I wonder where Lucifer went. He's probably coming up with his strategy to dominate the world."

Dean sighs and swallows the food that's remaining in his mouth. "It's been years, right? Sam said yes in 2012, it's 2015, and well, that's three years and all he did was release the Croatoan virus. Sounds small league, if you ask me."

"He's very patient. Think of the millennia he spent in the cage. He doesn't do anything quickly. He plans, so that every detail is perfect. That's just him."

"Did you," Dean moves his chair from the table, "know him, up there?"

"No. We never met. I was a very young soldier at that time. Barely wet behind the ears."

Dean smiles, imagining a newly created Castiel, so open to learn everything Heaven had to teach, to receive his orders, lessons, and why does that seem so utterly adorable to Dean? "I guess that's a good thing for you."

Castiel smiles. "Yes, it was tragic what happened; the war in Heaven, angels verses angels, those he was able to corrupt, well, it had surprised the garrison at the time. Now that I know the truth, Lucifer had a reason as to why he went crazy, but the ones who followed him, well, what's their excuse?"

Dean ponders that for a moment. "And then there's Zach, Uriel, Raphael…"

"Don't even remind me." Castiel rises from the table and heads to the record player. Dean watches him pick up the Otis Redding album and stare at it for a few seconds, before turning it over and mouthing something, probably the song titles. He places the vinyl onto the turntable and moves the needle in place. The music starts and Castiel looks at Dean and smiles.

Butterflies, heated face, and all the things that turn Dean into a nervous school girl are happening now. Strippers, he can handle. Hot chicks in a bar, sure. Castiel, angel of the goddamn Lord? And he's a big pile of ridiculous nerves.

Dean's swallows as he rises to close the space between him them. He’s lost in the way he looks right now; wet messy hair, his utter fascination with Otis Redding, and Dean has to wrap his brain around the fact that they've kissed, they've actually fucking kissed. Now, they're in their own cabin together, alone…

Castiel meets his eyes when Dean is inches from him. He sees him swallow and despite his nerves and rapidly beating heart, clammy palms, and stomach flipping out of control, Dean kisses him. There's not anything in the world right now that's more important than his lips on Castiel's.

His angel returns the kiss and grabs Dean's hips, pulling him even closer. Dean likes that, Castiel taking charge, taking what's his, because he is. He's Castiel's, and that thought sends a million shockwaves through him.

He can feel Castiel's smile against his lips so he jerks his head back and looks at him. "What's so funny?"

His angel looks up at him, his eyes sparkling. "Us. Can you even believe this is happening?"

Dean inhales. "No," he exhales and smiles, "way in hell."

They both laugh and Castiel does this cute thing where his head drops to Dean's shoulder and Dean just wraps his arms around him, pulling him as close as humanly possible. He almost gasps when he feels Castiel start on his neck, his lips brushing so tenderly against his pulse, and then he can feel his tongue, and - _shit_ \- Dean's getting totally aroused now.

He can tell Castiel feels it, as he begins to move against it, grinding, while his lips and tongue stay occupied on his neck. Dean's sweating now, his heart beating so fast, it's like a constant thrum in his chest. There's no denying how much he wants Castiel. He wants him like he's never wanted anything in his entire life.

"Show me, Dean," Castiel whispers in his ear, sending chills through his body, his skin tingling with goosebumps.

"What, Cas? Show you what?" Dean chokes out, his voice high pitched and it almost makes him laugh at himself.

"What you would have done to me this morning. Show me."

That's the hottest thing Castiel has ever said, and Dean's about to shoot his goddamn load in his pants if Castiel doesn't stop grinding against him like this. Fuck it. Fuck his nerves, his shyness, his damn awkwardness, or inability to believe that this is even happening. He's going to show Castiel exactly what he wants.

"Then come with me," Dean says, extending a hand. After Castiel grabs it, they move to the bed. _Okay, this is about to happen now._ There's one thing he needs to do before they actually go through with this, though.

He kisses him, passionately and then searches his eyes when he pulls back. "Are you sure, Cas? I don't want you to do anything that you'd regret, or--"

Castiel silences him by locking his lips with Dean's and pulls him closer as they fall down onto the bed. Castiel's legs are spread as Dean takes his place in between them. On his knees, he sits on his heels, looking down at his angel and he’s suddenly overcome with anxiety. This is Castiel, someone who deserves so much better, someone who should be loved, adored, and Dean's not sure if he's even worthy enough to give that to Castiel.

He looks down at trembling hands, and now he feels like a complete asshole, like he's the one forcing this. His dreams and fantasies weren't enough, now he has to urge Castiel to just give into him, want him, even if he's not even sure that he does. He knows Castiel loves him, but that doesn't mean he wants sex. He may not even be into that sort of thing. Not while he's an angel, anyway.

Castiel sits up and moves to his knees as well, inching closer to Dean. "Dean, what's wrong?"

He grips his arms and Dean looks at him, a heaviness in his heart that he wishes wasn’t there. "I've wanted this for a long time. I hid it, but I wanted it. And now I just feel like I'm making you want it too."

Dean lowers his head and that's about as open as he could possibly get at the moment. He hates himself for closing off. Castiel deserves everything. He deserves to hear 'I love you', and all that other romantic stuff that, yes, Dean feels 100%,  but saying it, that's a whole other story.

Castiel is really close, bringing Dean's face in his hands. "You're not making me do anything, Dean. You think I haven't thought about this? In all the years I’ve spent being in love with the one person I had sworn to protect; the thought of even being close to you drove me mad."

"Really?" Dean sighs, staring into his angels eyes.

"To me, you are always precious and if I had let myself indulge in how I felt about you, I thought it would have been selfish of me."

Right now, this moment, is so fucking raw and so unexpected, he thinks he may actually cry.

Castiel continues, "If I'd known how you felt, I'm sure things would have been different for us, long ago. But Dean," Castiel smiles," just because it's taken us forever to be where we are now, it doesn't mean it's not meant to be. I want you. I've always wanted you, before I even knew what it was that I was feeling."

Dean returns his smile and he wants to say a thousand things, but instead he crashes into him, kissing him, hard and passionately, wrapping his arms around him. Castiel kisses him back and _my God, he's a damn good kisser._ His lips are the softest that Dean has ever felt, and those sparks from earlier, in the woods? Yeah, they're back, along with those little bursts of electricity that are even more noticeable now.

With the candlelight, Otis Redding playing in the background, and Castiel here with him, this is the most romantic night he's ever had and he laughs quietly against his angel’s shoulder. Of course it would be with Castiel. _Of course._ And what makes it theirs, something only _they_ would experience, is the fact that this is all taking place in another damn dimension.

Castiel lifts Dean's head with his fingers and gives him this scorching look, as his hands move under his shirt, slowly lifting it off of his body. Dean raises his arms and watches Castiel toss his shirt onto the floor. Dean brings his hands to his angel’s waist, and moves his fingers under his shirt, noticing how ripped yet so soft he feels. Once his shirt is off, Dean presses his bare chest against his and he could probably just do this all night; kiss Castiel and feel his skin, his warmth all around him.

He moves his face to Castiel's neck, kissing and licking, getting chills when he lets out these tiny moans and _Jesus fucking Christ,_ that's the best sound he's ever heard. His breath, becoming more shallow as Dean moves his mouth to his shoulder, then to his collarbone. The sounds coming out of him are driving Dean crazy, he's about to explode.

He looks down at Castiel's fingers that are now playing with hem of his sweatpants and Dean's pretty sure this is going to get real naked, real fast. Castiel looks at him, as if waiting for permission and Dean hopes his enthusiastic kiss answers that for him. Or his raging hard on. Whichever.

Off his sweatpants go and he's left in his underwear and it's time to do the same for Castiel. Dean lies his angel down beneath him, kissing him tenderly from his chest down to his stomach, loving how his body jerks when he starts licking below his navel. With a smirk, Dean slides his pants off in one move, and then crawls up his body, planting small kisses along the way.

Each spot his lips touch, he remembers the moments he saw Cas wounded, hurt. He makes sure his lips cover each area, as if the wounds are still there, yet invisible. He wants to kiss them all away, as he had always wanted to do. He continues up his body, his mind reeling at the fact that they are actually doing this, until he reaches his mouth, where Castiel greets him with pure passion.

Their bodies touching, so hot, so fucking amazing, Dean finds a spot in between Castiel's legs to position himself and he moves against him, feeling Castiel's erection against his, and Dean's brain is swimming.

Castiel's lips are like fire when he kisses Dean, taking his bottom lip between his teeth, then licking it afterward. He’s hungry for Dean. He wants him and just seeing him react this way sends Dean into a state of euphoria.

This is new, completely new to the both of them.

Years spent being best friends, sexual tension growing like a damn tidal wave, and now it's crashing down on them in sweet, erotic touches, bodies moving in sync, hardness against hardness. He's seeing stars now from behind his closed lids but he opens them, for the need to see Castiel is undeniable, as he brings his angel closer to ecstasy.

Castiel is pulling Dean's underwear off, reaching and thrusting to make room before Dean has to assist, and he uses one hand to remove them. _Holy shit, I’m naked now._ He trembles slightly when he slides Castiel's underwear off as well, and he can't help but give him a once over, and _god damn_ … Castiel has these meaty thighs that Dean would really love to devour, and so he lowers his head, kissing them, suckling at the flesh while Castiel writhes under him.

There are so many things he can do to Castiel right now. Taste him for the first time, take him into his mouth.  He's not sure what Castiel would do if he suddenly went down on him. Would it be too much? Too fast?

But they _are_ naked, for God's sake. It's not like _taking it slow_ is even an option right now.

He feels Castiel's hands under his arms and he pulls him back up, meeting his lips with his. Dean lowers his body and rests his erection on Castiel's and they both start moving. It's perfect, the way they’re pressed together, moving, giving each other exactly the right kind of friction.

Dean's being swallowed in Cas' energy, his heat, and he swears that they have always been meant to be this close. They fit, like two pieces to a perfect puzzle, and he's always known that there was so much more to their friendship than just him being Castiel's charge, once upon a time.

No, it's so much more and always has been. Each touch, look, was building to this very moment. Dean, living his life, pedal to the metal, hunting, strip clubs, bars, endless bottles of Bourbon, until he was dragged to Hell. Castiel strolls in, bad ass angel with goddamn sparks flying everywhere, and that moment changed his life forever.

It's bigger than him, than them. He doesn't want to get too ahead of himself, because he's all too familiar with jinxing shit when it comes to important people in his life, but Castiel is in his own category. He has a special place in Dean's heart reserved only for him. What does it mean? Dean has no idea. Are they soulmates? Who knows. But Dean's damn sure that his life is 100% better with his angel in it.

He feels Castiel’s fingers grab his ass, guiding his movements and Dean's ready, he's going to come, so he lifts his eyes and meets Castiel's blues and the world is theirs right now. "You've always wanted me?" Dean asks, in between small grunts.

"Yes. I've always wanted you, Dean," Castiel breathes.

Dean's moving faster now, grinding harder. "Say it again."

Castiel closes his eyes briefly when he moans, and then opens them again, looking at Dean, his eyes dark and deep. "I've always wanted you."

And that's when Dean comes against Castiel, hissing as he pumps his warm liquid which is now spreading across Castiel's stomach and cock. His head drops but then he lifts it when he feels his angel stiffen underneath him, and now he’s throbbing against him, and Dean just stares at him, watching Castiel's face as he comes apart and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Eyes closed, mouth slightly parted to let out small gasps, and then blue meets green and it takes Dean's breath away.

Both of them relax against each other. Dean's head lowers to Castiel's shoulder as his angel's arms wrap tightly around him. He doesn't want to move, like ever. He can lie here with Castiel for the rest of his damn life and he would be absolutely okay with it.

"This is real, right? I'm not dreaming?" Dean asks as he slowly rolls off of Castiel but keeping half of his body still on him, resting his leg between his thighs. He feels his chest move as he chuckles and yeah, he ain't moving anytime soon. This right here, is everything.

"We're awake." He feels Castiel kiss the top of his head, sending a warm current through his body.

Maybe it's the high from what just happened, or the fact that he's no longer a victim of the mark, or maybe it's just the overall energy of being in this place, in this bed, with the one person he wants to be with, but he feels joy, like a genuine happiness in his heart that he's not felt in ages. In fact, he can't even remember feeling this good. He nuzzles into Castiel's neck and hears him giggle, and _fuck me sideways,_ that's just too damn cute.

"Good."

He wants to go another round, make love to him all night long, try new things, watch Castiel experience ecstasy over and over again, but just as he thinks it, his eyelids feel heavy, and he realizes just how tired he actually is. From walking all day to being stuck on that damn piece of land, he's exhausted.

He can't sleep yet, he doesn't want this moment to end and as cheesy or sappy as that sounds, he needs to relish in this just for a little while longer.

"I never wanted him, Cas." _Way to ruin the moment, Dean._

He feels Castiel shift under him and the arm that's wrapped around Dean squeezes him tightly. "I overreacted. I was jealous."

Dean smiles. Yeah, Castiel was jealous and it was about so much more than what he originally said. "Never be. My dreams can be very… odd and that's all I thought it was. To be honest," Dean yawns, "I'd take having you platonically than him sexually any day of the week."

Castiel slides to his side, causing Dean to move off of him, so that they can lie side by side, facing each other. Dean's face burns when Castiel takes his hand and laces his fingers with his. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Geez, Cas. Do you think I'm just about… I mean, you think this is all about sex?" Dean has a queasy feeling now in his stomach that quickly goes away with a kiss from his angel.

"Of course not. I guess I'm just trying to grasp onto the fact that we… this… finally happened."

Castiel is smiling and sure, Dean gets it. He hadn't really given Castiel any reason, or indication that he was into him either, even though from Dean's perspective, he felt like he was so damn obvious all the time.

"I think about you all the time. Like every day. And when you're not around, I actually miss you. Like, a lot. So there." Dean smiles, his face on fire but no fucks are given. While he knows he’s shown Castiel time and time again just how much he means to him, sometimes words are necessary and as shitty as Dean is with it, he'll try it anyway. For him.

"I've always felt something coming from you. I just thought I was imagining things. I couldn't ever believe that you'd actually feel the same."

Dean inhales, deeply, and reaches over to grab a towel. He looks down at Castiel’s stomach, at the mess they made, and begins to clean him up. They make eye contact and this look now on his angel’s face: contentment mixed with wonder, makes him forget that they weren't always like this. He’s so beautiful, all his expressions are gorgeous, always leaving Dean a mess in his own mind.

"Do you remember that night I got drunk? At the bar?"

"Really, Dean. Please be more specific." Castiel winks at him, _and holy shit_ … that wink.

"The other night when we were fighting, and I was being an asshole."

Castiel smiles, "Yes, I remember."

Dean swallows. "I left with a girl. Went back to her place."

He sees Castiel's cheeks flush. Dean continues, "Relax, I didn't bang her. Well, I wanted to--"

Castiel swallows, and Dean catches it as he moves closer to him, so that they're sharing the same breath. "I was in a funk, okay, but point is, I was going to, you know… and I," Dean starts chuckling, making Castiel flash his squinty-eyed confused face.

"She had this beige trenchcoat hanging in her closet, and I just couldn't go through with it," Dean confesses and he's pleased to see the tension drain from Castiel.

"Because of--"

"Cas, I know this sounds fucking crazy but, I really don't want anyone else. I mean, yeah I was being stupid that night to prove one point, when all it did was prove another."

"And that is?"

"That I'm--  I," He can't even say it, and shit, he wants to so badly.

_Castiel, I love you with every fiber of my being. I've loved you for years and I hate that I can't even tell you that. What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Castiel's eyes grow wide and watery and Dean's now the one with the confused squinty eyes. After a few more seconds of staring he clears his throat.

"Dean…" Castiel kisses him, tenderly and brings Dean closer.

_What the hell just happened? Not that it's a bad thing, but Cas is emotional, all of a sudden. I didn’t say anything, I just thought it and… wait..._

After the kiss, Dean rests his hand on his angel's face. "What is it?"

He just smiles and kisses him again. "Nothing. I'm just… really happy." And he rests his forehead on Dean's, sneaking in a few more pecks, until they settle into a comfortable position.

He's happy too. So fucking happy and when will this ball drop? Because it always does.

“I’m glad we got stuck on that land,” Dean confesses, in between yawns.

“Me too.”

He isn’t lying. That was the greatest thing to happen to him. That stupid enchantment, it brought it all out, all those feelings that they should have confessed eons ago. And to think it all started the moment Cas found him in Hell, well, that makes this all so unbelievably special. It’s _their_ story. He finds himself smiling, as he stares up at the ceiling. Castiel, his angel, is now in his arms and life just got so much better.

His eyes are too heavy now to keep open. Dean decides that there's too much space between them, so he drapes his arm over him and brings him closer, resting Castiel's head under his chin. Warmth, love, safety, all surrounding them as he finally dozes off, listening to the calming sounds of Castiel's breathing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas deserve an entire chapter of fluff (and so do y'all) so here it is :-) Enjoy.

Waking up has a whole new meaning. It's now an act that involves Dean and Castiel, naked, wrapped in each other’s warmth, and refusing to let the other out of bed. He’s been up for about a half hour now, just watching Castiel sleep. Sure, it’s a little weird, seeing as _he’s_ the one doing it.

_“I’ll watch over you.”_

Dean can live with this, if this actually does become routine for them. More than just something they had for one night - and God, he hopes it wasn’t just for one night. Even though they have a long day ahead, an important mission, he's in no rush to leave Castiel's embrace right now. Hearing him snore, so slightly, the way he mumbles things in his sleep, as if he’s having the most amazing dream ever, how he holds onto Dean, as if he never wants to let him go.

They shared something last night. Something sacred, and as funny as that sounds - even in his own mind - it was like nothing he’s ever experienced. To have this much love, _unconditional love_ , isn’t something he’s used to. And as many times as he thought he had it, it wasn’t _this_.

His touch alone has Dean floating. Like any minute he’s going to crash, hitting the ground hard enough to wake him out of this awesome dream. But it wasn’t a dream. It happened. It’s happening. They confessed their feelings and then finally gave into the desires they've had for one another. Dean is aware he has a lot more to say to him, more about what's in his heart, and when he stops being so chicken shit, he will.

His stomach fills with butterflies when he sees it all again. Castiel underneath him, moaning his name, allowing him to bring them to a new place together. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous about it; the step they just took, about what it all means, what it all _could_ mean.

"Good morning," Castiel says, hoarsely. He can also get used to waking up to Castiel's bed head and raspy morning voice - that's even deeper and more gravely than normal.

"Morning. Sleep okay?"

Castiel rubs his eyes and rakes his hair, yawning. "Yes, great actually. You?"

Dean nods. "Same."

They’re lying on their sides as Castiel brings his fingers to Dean's jaw, brushing his thumb against his stubble and Dean can't help but smile back at his angel, who is just beautiful right now. Those blue eyes, still glassy from sleep, the way he's smiling at him, touching him, is just breathtaking.

He wonders if Castiel likes it; the human stuff. His powers are draining, and it seems rapidly, and the more it does, the more human his angel becomes. Would it have been the same if he was at full strength, if his mojo wasn’t compromised?

“So how do you like it?”

Castiel narrows his gaze, forehead wrinkling. “Like what?”

“The human crap. Is it weird?”

After a slight pause, Castiel says, “It’s not that bad. I would be happy not having to urinate and defecate, but the other stuff, the… eating I enjoy very much and…” He flashes a mischievous smile.

“I guess not having to use the john would be nice,” Dean jokes. “But I mean, you’re okay with it? Not having all your mojo?”

“I am.” He shifts, moving his arm under his pillow to support his head. “I just don’t like being useless.”

“Oh come on,” Dean reaches over and nudges him, gently. “Don’t ever think that, okay?”

Castiel has been and will always be so much more than his powers. He just needs him to realize that too. Dean rests his head back on his pillow, staring at his angel, wondering what he could say to convince him that he means the world to him.

“I’m not even sure I can heal, now.” Castiel moves his hand to attempt to heal him but Dean grabs it and brings it close to his chest.

“It doesn’t matter. I ain’t got super powers and I get by. Plus,” he brings Castiel’s hand to his lips and kisses it, “I need you by my side regardless. I think you know that already.”

This makes his angel smile and that warms his heart. To see Castiel happy, content, does so much for Dean, for having to see him in the exact opposite state of mind for all these years, it’s a nice change. He thinks back to a few days ago, sharing the bed in the B&B, and how calm and serene he was.

Maybe they offer that vibe to each other. He’s always felt a certain peaceful energy when he's around him, maybe Dean does the same for him. He hopes so, because with all the other people in his life, he just seems to add more stress than anything else.

"I don't want to move," Castiel says, closing his eyes.

Dean wiggles against him. "Are you sure?"

He smiles with his eyes closed and leans over to kiss Dean, moving his lips from his mouth to his cheek, his nose, his eyelids, and Dean feels like he could actually start purring. Castiel rolls over on top of him, gently nibbling his neck, licking the skin, and Dean moans - growls even, and is instantly aroused.

Castiel hardens against his thigh so he grabs his ass and moves him, grinding, while Castiel lets out small gasps that are just so damn erotic. Dean slides his leg over so that Castiel is now straddling him, and the angel sits up on Dean's lap, and stares down. Dean is up on his elbows, as he begins to move slowly, their erections pressed together, and then he falls back, hissing at the feeling.

It's unbelievably sensual, Dean has never been this way with a man before. Hand jobs, blow jobs, sure, but this… this is a whole new level of intimacy for him and the fact that it's happening with Castiel makes him feel like he’s on cloud nine.

He looks at up him and is overcome with that feeling of awe, grasping that this is all real, that they actually took that next step in their relationship and it's blowing his damn mind. What used to be mere fantasy, is now 100% tangible, and he has no idea how he's gotten to be so lucky.

His eyes catch a bottle of oil next to the bed and he snickers. _How did that get there?_ He shakes his head and reaches over for it, pouring some in his palm. Dean meets Castiel’s curious eyes and smirks. _Oh Cas, this just got so much better._

Dean reaches for Castiel's erection and wraps his fingers around the shaft, and he swears that Castiel jumps at the first touch. "I got you."

Castiel's face is flushed as Dean moves his fist a little faster and by the time Dean has both cocks in his hand, Castiel is moaning, so quietly, closing his eyes, then opening them, his lids heavy with the unmistakable look of pleasure.

"Oh Dean…" Castiel leans forward, his hand resting on the wall above Dean's head, as Dean moves his hand faster now, pressing their cocks together, their throbbing heads rubbing with each stroke. "Dean…"

Castiel is coming on Dean's stomach and he tears his eyes away from his face long enough to watch it, how his juices pump out, some dripping on the head of his own cock and fingers and it brings Dean over the edge. He's coming now too, fiercely, everything so damn sensitive, he can't remember ever feeling like this.

He catches Castiel watching as well and he smiles when their eyes meet again. Dean pulls Castiel down on top of him and wraps his arms around him, unwilling to let him go. Like ever. He hears Castiel trying to talk against his neck, so he eases up a bit so he can lift himself up to speak.

"What was that, Cas?"

"That was… amazing." He smiles at Dean, eyelids droopy again.

Castiel moves his arms so his elbows are on either side of Dean's head, his body remaining on top of him. "This is all very amazing," Castiel continues.

"You're tellin' me."

"I never thought--" He looks away, shyly but Dean shifts under him to get his attention. Castiel looks back at Dean and gives him one of those sincere puppy dog expressions. "I never thought I could feel this way, you know… while being an angel."

"You mean, all this time, you never… while you were--"

Castiel is no virgin, but he’s also not very experienced, and Dean is well aware that he hadn’t really been sexually involved with anyone while he’s known him  _and_ while being an angel.

Castiel laughs. "No! The only time was when I was human and well, it wasn't anything like this."

"Oh?" Dean smirks. "How was it different?"

"Well, for one it wasn't nearly as satisfying," he says, with a deadpan glare.

Dean's not sure now that he even wants to talk about this, but then Castiel continues, "And there was no bond, no higher energy like we have between us, which I think makes this all the more… uh..."

"Pleasurable?"

Cas nods.

"Yeah, I get that. _Totally_ get that," Dean says, grinning widely.

"And I didn't love her."

Dean's heart skips a beat and he sees Castiel's face turn red just as his own heats up. He opens his mouth to say something, _anything_ but then Castiel speaks, "So, this is all very new to me. And I like it." Castiel smiles.

Dean exhales the breath he didn't even realize he was holding. "W-well, I'm glad to be the one you can experience it with." He lifts his head to kiss Castiel. "It's new to me too."

"With men in general, or with this experience?"

Dean sighs, still smiling like an idiot. "With something this profound. Dude, your kisses have sparks."

Castiel laughs as he buries his head in Dean's neck. A sound that may as well be the holiest thing his ears ever had the pleasure of hearing. Lifting his head again, Castiel says, "I thought that was coming from you!"

They erupt in laughter. "Holy shit, Cas. What is that?"

If this whole experience didn’t already feel like a dream, or some epic fantasy love story, the fact that they actually _did_ have sparks when they kissed makes it totally surreal. Okay, it may not be bright lights that fly out of them, but it’s definitely little zaps of _something_ , and he has no idea what in the hell it could mean.

"I have no idea," Castiel says, shaking his head and smiling. "Some magical reaction to our touches, I guess."

Dean's eyes widen. "Wow. That's kind of incredible."

Castiel kisses the tip of his nose and it gives Dean goosebumps. Since when was Castiel so sweet, so damn affectionate? Not that he's complaining because he can totally get used to _this_ too. 

"Didn't you feel it a little over the years, when we would touch each other sometimes?"

 _Come to think of it…_ "Yeah, I kinda did. I never really understood that."

"Sometimes you'd grab my shoulder and I would forget what we were doing," Castiel confesses, smiling bashfully.

"Holy shit, Cas. Me too," Dean says, before cracking up again, as Castiel joins in.

"Even just the way you'd look at me sometimes, made me wonder what in the hell we were even talking about. I'd come see you with something really important to say, and forget the moment our eyes met."

And he wasn’t the only one. Too many times Dean would forget his own name when Castiel was around. He now wonders if Sam ever picked up on it. The way his little brother kept pushing them together, obviously wanting something to happen, there is no doubt in Dean’s mind that he saw it all; their feeble attempts at hiding their true feelings.

Dean can't resist kissing and squeezing his angel who’s lying on top of him. Oh, this is fucking awesome, and fun, and he never wants it to end. Why do they have to even get up and do this stupid mission anyway? Can't they just do this all day?

They _did_ come to another dimension to save Castiel's counterpart and he knows that it's important they finish what they came here for. They can have all the time in the world after that to just lie around in each other's arms, and talk about all the things they've neglected to say over the years or make love all day and not give a rat's ass about anything else for that day.

Now he's thinking about the Bunker. Holy shit, what’s Sam going to say? Will he gloat about knowing it was there this whole time? Will he celebrate?

Dean’s smiling like a madman now.

“Why'd we wait so long?” Dean asks, more to the universe instead of to Castiel.

Castiel slides off of him, slightly, still keeping most of his body on Dean, and drapes an arm over his chest. “Because we’re idiots.”

Dean nods while grinning. “Truer words have never been spoken.”

After another few seconds of laughter, Castiel rests his head on Dean’s shoulder, so the hunter moves his arm and lets his hand land on his head, gently combing his fingers through his hair. Ah, this messy, too cute for words hair of his angel’s.

“So, I guess I’m stating the obvious here, but in case you were still wondering about the spell, the ingredients Metatron needed. The grace of an angel in love…”

Dean swallows the lump in his throat. He had spent that night, after Hippy Cas had let that slip, feeling like he was going to puke, knowing Castiel had been in love with someone and that, 1. he had no idea who it was and 2.  it wasn’t him.

Of course now with all that has been confessed…

“Cas man, all this time, and here I was running around with the damn mark of Cain. I pushed you away.”

“You didn’t, Dean. There were other things going on that required my attention. Remember?”

“Yeah but--” Dean _does_ remember. He remembers it all. The angel headquarters, Cas - their fearless leader of the new angel army, Hannah, who wanted him to kill Dean. Oh he remembers… and part of him tries to forget.

“What’s done is done, just like how we hid our true feelings and for how many years?”

Dean smirks. “Seven.”

“Seven years, Dean. Seven years I watched you, fought along side you, fought _with_ you, watched your heart break, felt mine break as well, forgot you, then remembered everything as if I had been given the movie of our lives. All the lies, the betrayal, but more importantly, the love, the warmth, and the very reason I am who I am.”

Dean pulls Cas closer to him, floating while he speaks. He’s never talked to Castiel like this, in such depth. Hell, he's never had conversations on this level with anyone, not even Sam, and that is mainly because Dean shuts him the hell up before he gets a chance to _‘talk about his feelings’._

Castiel continues, “I watched you slip away in the portal when I remained in Purgatory. I was never able to tell you that I'm sorry.”

Dean cringes, wanting to let go of that image that seems to have been burned into his brain. He’ll never forget his relentless searching for his angel, only to watch him slip away, and then later finding out that it was intentional.

He had wanted to be mad at Castiel, back then. He wanted to hate him. Of course it was impossible. Even those times that he had been seething with anger towards him, it never lasted that long.The weak spot he has for Castiel is obvious and he had come to terms with it a while ago.

“I knew you were sorry.” He pauses. “And even if you didn’t say it, whatever Cas. I get it. Self loathing, penance. Dude, I could write a damn book about my own.”

Pulling back to look at him, eye to eye, Castiel smiles. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know.”

They never had to talk about this ever again. He never had to hear the apologies, or be reminded of the regret. He knows what it all meant back then. He knows why Cas did what he did, and sure, it hurt like hell when he ripped a piece of his heart out and stomped on it. But in time, they really moved on, understanding the unspoken agreement that they will always have each other’s interests at heart, even if it seems painful at first.

Does he still cringe when he thinks about it? Hell yeah he does. But it's over. Done.

They lie in silence for a while, Dean dreading the thought of actually getting up. He knows he should, he needs a shower, and Cas and Chuck are probably waiting for them, anxious to get this day started. But it doesn't mean he has to shower alone, right?

"Wanna take a shower with me?" Dean finally says while he feels Castiel's body like a dead weight on him, obviously because he fell asleep again.

"What?" Castiel lifts his head, opening his eyes. "Oh, I must have dozed off."

"Yes you did," Dean grins. "So?"

Castiel slides off of Dean, letting him breath a little better. "What?"

"You. Me. Shower?"

His eyes grow wide. "Yes. Of course. Yes," and he leaps out of bed, accidently bringing the blanket with him. Dean's sitting up, laughing while Castiel tries to free himself from the tangled mess he's in now.

Dean gets up and he races over to Castiel and pulls the blanket from him, causing the angel to twirl around and then fall into Dean's arms. "Smooth," Dean jokes.

Castiel just rolls his eyes, smirking and leads them into the bathroom. Dean gets the shower going, waiting for the water to warm up. He glances at Castiel, who is now just staring at Dean's body and he chuckles. "Like what you see?"

Castiel flushes. "If I say yes, would that be awful of me?"

"If you say no, it would be awful of you" Dean says with a smile.

They each step in and and sigh in unison. "I wash your back, you wash mine?" Dean asks, grabbing the soap. Castiel shrugs and turns around, taking Dean literally, and fine, he'll wash his back. Oh, he'll definitely wash his back…

With soapy hands, he smoothes them down from the nape of Castiel's neck to the base of his spine. He hears Castiel hum so he repeats the strokes a few more times and then he moves to his shoulders, biceps, letting his fingers slide easily over his skin. Each caress is careful, as he marvels at the way his muscles flex when he massages them, his velvety smooth skin coming alive under his touch, and he wants to worship him for just a little while longer.

He runs his hands down his back again, slowly tracing the area where his wings would be, and hesitates before reaching ass. He wants so badly to grab it, and it's not like he hasn't already. Going for it, Dean spreads the soap across the cheeks.

"Mmm" Castiel purrs and rests his hands against the tile, holding himself up.

Dean continues to wash him and then feels brave enough to reach around and start on Castiel's stomach with his other hand. He gets a good lather going and slips his hand further down to his angel's already rock hard cock. Castiel moans again when Dean starts to stroke him, his hand sliding so easily now.

He still has his other hand on his ass and he's tempted to venture where he's sure no man has gone before. He uses the edge of his hand to slide in between his cheeks and he rubs up and down a few times, waiting for Castiel's reaction.

From what Dean can tell, Castiel is enjoying the attention he's getting there, so Dean presses his middle finger against his opening, not going inside, just massaging the area.

"Oh… Dean," Castiel chokes out. He turns around abruptly and Dean's a little taken aback, like did he do something wrong? But Castiel kisses him, driving his tongue into his mouth with such a hunger, it makes Dean see stars. He's grabbing Dean's hand and guides it back to where it was, his ass, and okay...

Dean plays with his opening, just moving his finger along the rim, and between his balls, and then he feels Castiel take hold of his cock. Dean actually gasps. _Fuck Cas._ Castiel is stroking him now, his angel lost in utter ecstasy and Dean can't fucking believe how good it feels to have Castiel's hand around him. He looks down and watches as Castiel takes them both in his hand, moving slowly, teasing Dean and making the head of his dick throb.

"Mm, Cas," Dean breathes out.

Dean reaches under Castiel's thigh with his free arm and lifts his leg a little, to rest his foot on the small step on the edge of the shower, and with the ease of having Castiel's ass spread a little, he slips a finger in, and Castiel's eyes open wide.

"Is this okay?" Dean asks him, afraid of hurting him.

Castiel nods, kisses his lips, moving to his neck and sucks his skin, and Dean feels teeth  _\- holy shit!_ Castiel is coming apart again, so Dean fingers him a little deeper while Castiel jerks them faster. "Dean, oh God, Dean…"

He feels Castiel coming, as his muscles squeeze around his finger and then Dean joins, pumping into Castiel's hand. They collapse into each other and stand there, under the running water for a minute, with Castiel's head resting on his shoulder. After he comes down from the most incredible high Dean has ever felt, he pulls away and smiles at that look Castiel has again.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this… satisfied."

Castiel flashes a sleepy smile. "No, this would be very new too."

Dean laughs and grabs Castiel's head, moving it under the stream. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

"M'kay."

Fuck, Dean is so smitten, he hopes he will be able to even focus on their mission today, because it would be really bad if something should happen because he's daydreaming about him and Castiel and their sexual adventures since last night.

He's already lost. So lost. But it feels so damn good.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“What?” Dean asks Castiel as he stares at him, wide eyed and smiling. Another look he needs to add to his ‘Adorable Faces Cas Makes’ photo album in his head.

“What are you going to tell Sam?”

Dean sits on the edge of the bed, pulling on his socks. He thinks about it for a moment, and grins when he sees his brother’s goofy grin in his head. “You know he’s been hinting for us to get together for years now, right?”

Castiel snaps his head back. “He has?”

“M’hm. Why do you think he took the smaller bed at the B&B? He wanted us to be forced to share a bed.”

“I would have never picked up on that, he’s really good at appearing oblivious.” Castiel sits next to him to work on his own socks and boots, and he stops to make eye contact with Dean, which makes the hunter’s stomach flip, anxiously.

“Y-yeah, he’s always been good at that sorta thing,” Dean chokes out, feeling a little taken aback by the way Castiel is staring at him right now. It’s the same way he’s always looked at him, that intensity mixed with what he now knows as love. And it’s always turned Dean into a pile of goo.

“He’ll be supportive, then. That’s nice.”

Dean swallows. “So, uh, it’s okay? I mean… us?”

“Dean.” Castiel chuckles and stands after he’s done lacing up his boots. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

They laugh and Dean pulls Castiel down on top of him, kissing him. “I wish we could stay here all day.”

“Hm,” Castiel looks up at the ceiling and then back down at Dean. “That would mean we don’t help Cas and Chuck and that wouldn’t be very nice of us.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just saying.”

They reluctantly slide off the bed and head outside, seeing the camp already buzzing with life. He’s hungry, and he’s sure Castiel is too, and when a cute red head walks past them with pancakes, his stomach growls.

“We need food,” he tells Castiel. Just then Chuck comes out of his cabin and waves at them.

“Hey, guys. Pancakes are in cabin number four. Go grab a plate.”

Dean and Cas share a look and head over there without any delay. When they reach cabin four, there’s already a group of people waiting in line for what appears to be a makeshift buffet table with two people behind it, trays of pancakes, a few with bacon, and about a dozen bottles of syrup.

“Wow, this is like camp, only better.”

Castiel tilts his head. “You went to camp?”

“No, but I’ve snuck into a few girls' cabins in my youth,” he says with a wink which only makes Castiel roll his eyes.

“Hi, I’m Miriam, what can I get ya?”

Dean eyes the attractive woman serving breakfast and is immediately taken by her. He likes her accent, curly dark hair, and almond eyes. If it was any other day, and if he wasn’t so damn in love, he’d already be flirting with her. “New York?”

She grins. “Brooklyn. What gave me away?”

Dean returns her smile. “The way you hold those tongs,” he jokes.

She laughs and rolls her eyes. “Funny. So, pancakes? Bacon?”

“A bit of everything?”

“It’s weird you know,” she tells him as she forks a few pancakes onto his plate. “You look just like him.”

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.”

“And you,” she smiles at Castiel, “you’re like a more straight edged version of our fearless leader. It’s so weird.”

Castiel just smiles, slightly at her and tells her he’ll have the same as Dean, after she watches him, anxiously with her tongs clicking together. Miriam adds a few strips of bacon and slaps a biscuit on their plate and nods.

“Well, thanks for coming, and I mean, to our world to help save it. We all know what you’re about to do and we can’t even tell you both how much it means.”

“Hey, anytime,” Dean says, side smiling. “It’s what we do.”

“Well, again, thanks. And it was nice meeting you both.”

“Likewise.”

They each grab a bottle of water and head outside with their breakfast. He spots a few wood picnic tables across from the far cabins and they decide to eat there, outside in the warm summer air. A few people are already seated and eating when they join them.

He doesn’t really want to talk to them, not because he isn’t interested in their lives, or who they are, but if they fail, if they don’t seal this tear in the barrier, then another version of him, a darker one may be coming here to wreak havoc.

And then the very real idea hits him that if Dark Dean is here, then Lucifer might come out of hiding. He’s surprised he hasn’t already shown his face, knowing _he’s_ here. Dean's suddenly full of panic at the thought. What if he doomed these people and the simple act - which, okay, wasn’t that simple - of coming here made everything worse?

Before he gets too lost in these thoughts, he feels a hand on his thigh and he warms to it, his angel’s energy radiating from him. Castiel can always tell when Dean’s thinking too hard and it’s kind of funny how well he knows him by now.

“What’s wrong?”

Dean shovels a forkful of pancake into his mouth and waits to swallow before speaking. He leans in closer to Castiel, not wanting the whole table to hear him. “Just thinking about Lucifer’s agenda. What if by me being here sets off some signal?”

“Hm,” Castiel says with a mouthful of food. “It’s possible but unlikely. I think he would have come here to check you out already. This is our third day here.”

“Right. But you did say he likes to take his time, plan things out…”

“I did,” Castiel swallows. “But his curiosity, knowing another version of you is here, would be too much for him to resist. We would have seen him by now.”

“So you think the same will go for the other Dean, the mark of Cain one?”

Castiel nods. “I say, if _he_ comes, our worst fears may not be Lucifer, but a Knight of Hell, who can only die by the hand of someone who also bears the mark and wields the First Blade.”

Dean shivers, _actually_ shivers and Castiel reaches under the table to grab his hand, an act that makes his stomach fill with butterflies.  “It’s okay Dean. I’m not trying to make you feel bad for what happened, okay?”

“I know. I just hate it.” Dean says, louder than he intended, making the people at their table turn their heads in his direction. He lowers his head, leaning in again and whispers, “I just hate that part of our past, it’s still pretty new, Cas.”

“Understandable. But you will heal from it. Give yourself time.”

“But--”

“But nothing,” Castiel interrupts, “We’ve all done regrettable things, Dean. The best we can do is push forward and do as much good as we possibly can. It won’t erase your bad choices, but it will heal the pain from them.”

Dean cracks a small smile as Castiel continues, “Don’t you think I’ve been down this road many times already?”

Dean has no idea why such simple words from his angel can set his heart on fire, make him feel like anything can happen, but as long as he has Castiel, the world can melt away and it will be okay.

Of course it’s not just that. It is the amazing fact that he’s always been able to offer him soothing words to calm his nerves, bring him back down to earth and it's funny that it takes an angel like Castiel to do that for him, when no one really ever had that power other than his mother… and he was four.

“How do you do it?”

Castiel furrows his brow, taking a sip of his water. “Do what?”

“Make me feel like everything’s gonna be okay.”

“I don’t know, Dean. Maybe it’s a super power I have.” Castiel winks at him and it makes Dean want to grab him and kiss him right here.

And fuck it, he does. He hears Castiel gasp when their lips meet and he can’t help but smile as he kisses him, wondering what thoughts are going through his head. He doesn’t care who’s looking or what they think, but when he hears Cas - Hippy Cas - behind them, saying things like “Aw look at that” and “Isn’t that the best thing you’ve ever seen?” Dean pulls away and glances at him.

“Sorry, I--”

“Hey, don’t stop on my account,” Cas says, smiling at the both of them.

He turns to his Castiel and is pleased with his flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “Cas, I, uh,”

Castiel grabs his collar and kisses him back and when he comes up for air, he’s smiling widely and that right there gives Dean the warm fuzzies.

They don’t say much when Cas and Chuck join them, and even Miriam takes a seat to enjoy the breakfast she has been serving people all morning. Dean likes her already, her New York attitude, tough but smart.

She begins giving them the low down of everyone in the camp; who is sleeping together, how many people are needed for raids, who has allergies, and who are pains in the ass. It’s funny that Dean had wanted to avoid this but now hearing about some of the members of good ole Camp Chitaqua, it’s making him realize that there’s so much more at stake, so many more people to fight for, other than just Cas and Chuck.

And these are the people  _this_ Cas looks after. Protects. Trains. At that thought, he glances across the way to an open area where some of the members are doing defensive fighting maneuvers, with one person instructing them. He thinks to himself, “Not bad,” as he watches a petite girl overpower a 6 foot muscled guy, easily as if she was taking down someone her own size.

_Impressive._

“So, how many people do you train for combat, Cas?”

Cas follows his gaze and smiles. “Ah, those are the new recruits. Nina, she’s a natural. She’s barely trained for a week and can already take down people double her size. I think she will make a great soldier.”

“Soldier? So you train them to defend the camp?” Dean asks, sipping his water.

“Yes, and to be able to come on raids with us, take down Croats. If I could have every person here capable, I would, but I know that’s impossible. So I train a handful at a time. See where it goes.”

“That’s smart.” Castiel tells him, making Cas smile back at him.

“It was Dean’s idea, actually. My Dean.” Cas lowers his eyes briefly. “He was a natural at this sort of thing. I just hope I can achieve half the things he did while running this camp.”

“Hey,” Dean says, patting his shoulder. “It looks like you’re doing a hell of a job. Really. These guys, they don’t even seem as twitchy as when I first came here. And look at Chuck here," Chuck gives him a smile full of food. "He used to be scared of his own shadow."

Cas looks at Chuck, who stops in mid chew, as if caught off guard. “Yeah, I sure was, and the rest, well, they _are_ more relaxed,” Chuck adds. Cas smiling back at him.

“Because no one has seen or heard from Lucifer, many think we’re in the clear. I try not to give them false hope, because we all know this is far from over. I just can’t have them slacking off, thinking that he’s gone for good.”

Man, what he would give to find out why Lucifer has backed off, what he’s planning, and why he doesn’t pick up on Dean even being here. It’s weird, very weird, and just as he thinks it, he feels a phantom burning on his arm, where the mark had been. The mark that the devil himself gave Cain. The mark that unleashed darkness upon their world and if they don’t stop it, it will be the end of humanity. End of everything.

He feels Castiel squeeze his hand again under the table, obviously picking up on his distressful thoughts. He’s right though; do as much good as possible, and sure, it won’t take back what he’s done, but helping people is what Dean has always done. It’s who he is. And no matter how many times he fucks up, that part never changes.

And so he will save these people. Cas, Chuck, Miriam… at least from one problem, and now he wishes he could find a way to stop Lucifer as well. He will have to remember to bring it up with his Castiel later, because just knowing that there is another dark threat looming over these people’s heads, Dean is wondering if he should offer his help with that too.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fyi, more drug use and implied drug use (among others and flashbacks)

“Chuck, don’t drop that! If it breaks, we can’t do the spell,” Cas yells out as they all trek through the woods.

“I’m not gonna drop it, it’s just really hard to walk through all this crap.”

Cas stops in his tracks, turns, and walks to Chuck. “Here, I’ll carry the bowl, you carry the rest, okay? I have great balance.”

“Fine,” Chuck says, handing Cas the bowl.

Dean jogs up to them after he and Castiel had fallen behind a bit, unfamiliar with walking through a harsh terrain as this one. He still can’t believe what a torn portal is actually capable of. Weird displaced land that either reshapes the area around it, or actually traps you until you’ve confessed your deepest feelings.

He wants to just stop and stare at Castiel today. He wants to look at him and know that it’s real. They took the plunge. They made it happen. He can’t even imagine how their lives are going to be once they return to their own world. Everything’s changed. He’s changed. He wants to be out in the open with Castiel now, like he is here.

He wants the world to see how in love he actually is. No more hiding it, burying it, only to drive him crazy.

“Are we close?” he yells out, remembering that they are indeed in the woods, heading towards the very thing they came here for.

“Yeah. It’s going to get even worse, the ground is very unstable around here, so watch your step,” Cas tells him as he turns ahead and continues through the dense brush.

He wasn’t kidding when he said this area was near impossible to get through. He’s making good use of his machete, cutting down thick vines and whatever else is in their way. Most of it cleared a little already from yesterday.

It’s not raining, so that’s a plus, but it’s still humid as hell and Dean has to take frequent swigs from his water bottle. He notices Castiel doing the same, and he suddenly worries about that grace situation. How long until he’s completely drained? What exactly would Castiel do if they can’t fix it, if they never find Metatron?

And then it hits him - a question in his mind that he now wants gone. What if Castiel doesn’t want him like this once he gets his grace fixed, once he’s powered up again? Full mojo Castiel doesn’t need food, sleep, and probably doesn’t need anything else they’ve been doing. His stomach feels queasy now, but regardless, he will fix him and if he loses this intimacy because of it, he’ll just have to suck it up.

He’s not going to be selfish about this, like he’s been his whole life. Keeping people close only for his own benefit, telling himself that it’s to keep them safe. While he’s aware he can turn into a mother hen on almost everyone around him, it’s the fear of losing Sam and Castiel that makes him hold on even tighter.

It’s not fair, he knows it, and that’s why he refuses to do it again with Castiel. He’ll get his groove back, they’ll find Metatron and throat punch him until he tells them what he did to Castiel’s grace and when that happens, he’ll do anything in his power to fix it.

Dean shakes those thoughts out of his head and focuses on each step he takes, making sure he doesn’t fall into a sinkhole or get tangled in the wild flora everywhere. Castiel reaches for his shoulder, so he pauses to let him gain some balance.

Dean offers his arm to help him over a fallen tree stump. “Thanks, Dean."

"You doing okay?”

Castiel nods. “This is worse than Purgatory,” he muses.

Dean snickers. “Yeah, minus the monster onslaught.”

They share a smile and suddenly Dean’s back in that bed, with Castiel underneath him, staring at his face as he feels the pleasures of touch, and Dean’s stomach flips a few times.

He still can’t fucking believe it; the both of them finally giving into it. He feels his cheeks flush at the images in his head now. All the kissing, grinding, stroking, and that energy surrounding them, it was like some invisible force field protecting them.

And every time he’d look into those blue eyes, Dean was absolutely lost in them. Lost in all that love he can see and feel from his angel. All those years, all the times he’d stare into his Castiel’s eyes, it was there. That same damn look that he saw last night (and this morning).

Now here he is, on his way to do one of the most important jobs he’s ever had to do and he can’t stop thinking about what they shared. He knew this would happen. There’d be no way in hell to get it out of his head. Being with Castiel this way is not only damn amazing, it’s also the best thing to ever happen to Dean. And when he realizes that, he has to take a glance at him, his angel, who's staring at him, lovingly.

“I keep thinking about it, too.”

Dean swallows. “Uh, don’t tell me you can read my mind.”

Castiel smiles at him. “No. Nothing like that. I mean, sometimes I can, but… I try not to, and--”

Dean stops. “Sometimes you can?”

“Uh--” Castiel’s eyes widen.

“Hey guys, catch up, we’re almost there!” Chuck calls out to them.

Dean turns to Chuck and nods and then gives Castiel a warning look. “We’re gonna talk about this later,” he says, pointing at him, failing to hide his own smile.

Castiel just grins as he jogs with Dean to catch up to Chuck and the other Cas. They continue through the mucky terrain until Cas stops, his arm extended. “Wait.” He turns to them. “From here on the ground is completely unstable. I think the tear made it that way, actually.”

He turns to Dean. “You two hold on to each other, and be extra careful where you walk. Stay close behind Chuck and me and try to step where we step.”

Dean’s eyebrows raise when he notices in the distance; a warped, brighter than normal, area with thick brush. “Is that--”

Chuck nods. “Yup, that’s it. Looks weird, don’t it?”

“I’ll say. I was imaging a tear like we saw in Purgatory.”

Cas turns around again. “I can’t believe you two were in… okay, later. Let’s get moving.”

That’s a tale for another day. He supposes he can tell them all about that harrowing year spent fighting like it was going out of style. Not a day went by that he wasn’t neck deep in monster blood, and now he can feel that chill all over again.

Benny and him, cutting through vampires, demons, all to get to Castiel. Dean had never felt so determined before in his entire life. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do, wouldn’t endure for his angel. He knew, in his gut, that he was alive the whole time, but the fact he hadn’t found him, or that Castiel didn’t come looking for him, made Dean anxious.

Was he hurt? Was he being tortured? Were the monsters keeping him somewhere; a place that Dean had not yet looked?

He also remembers the prayers, day in and day out, desperate pleas and yearnings. Benny thought he was nuts, and he agreed with him half the time. It was a certain chaos in his mind - a scattered noisy chaos that kept him from seeing the forest for the trees, so to speak, because never in a million years would he have assumed Castiel was staying away on purpose.

Dean would have been a goner if it wasn’t for Benny. Their first run in with each other was interesting at best, but from that day on, he stuck by his side and as ridiculous as the idea of searching for Castiel was to him, he didn’t turn his back on Dean.

He does think about that guy sometimes, Benny. He wonders if he’s happy back there, feeling a purpose once again. It’s saddens Dean when he thinks about what he had to ask Benny to do,  and it’s even sadder that Benny didn’t want to come back. He wanted to stay in that God forsaken place, but for different reasons than Castiel. Benny didn’t feel like he deserved punishment, he felt like he didn’t belong topside and that actually makes Dean’s heart hurt.

Benny was a good guy, vampire or not. He was one of  the only friends Dean had that didn’t expect anything else from him, other than his loyalty. He was the only friend that never betrayed him, and now he begins to mourn him all over again.

He never told Sam or Castiel what had really went on with the vampire, and not so much because it was another dude, but that he was technically the very thing they hunt, and he knew they wouldn’t understand.

They grew close that year, closer than he’s been with anyone other than his brother and angel. He knew there was more to it, a certain romantic nature to their connection, and he was aware of Benny’s feelings for him.  

At that time, though, Dean was so intent on finding Castiel, he couldn’t even entertain the notion. And when they got out, well, he just had to keep his distance. Sam would have never accepted it.

He had thought about, and he can’t deny that but the loss of his angel was also too much to bear and he couldn’t even imagine getting into it with anyone else.

That time after Purgatory was a mess, and he wasn’t thinking about getting laid, meeting chicks, or men. He was devastated at losing the one person he’s ever loved so deeply, and having to watch it all slip out of his hand, literally. Everything; Castiel, their friendship, all gone in a blink of an eye.

He remembers thinking back then, what he would have given to have kissed Castiel that night in Purgatory - the night before they found the portal. He remembers crying in his arms, Castiel wrapping him into his embrace and he never felt more comforted and safe as that moment. He also remembers Benny making comments about it, but accepting it as well.

The past has a funny way of hitting you in the head sometimes, and he knows that he needs to focus on what’s happening now. He’s with Castiel and he’s right next to him, glowing, happy, and Dean feels a warmth in heart knowing that he has something to do with it.

Dean takes Castiel’s hand, making the two of them blush like damn school girls and they follow Chuck and Cas, as closely as possible without bumping into them. The ground is indeed unstable as all hell, and Dean’s finding it really hard to keep his balance. It seems like it’s tilted one way, then the other, as if he’s walking on one of those wacky bridges in an amusement park.

His foot slips on a wet rock and he almost falls but Castiel grabs his arm and pulls him upright. His heart is beating, unsure of what exactly he’d be falling into. The ground is covered with thick vines, leaves, and roots, he can’t even see what they’re actually stepping on. A feeling of vertigo overcomes him, imaging that there is in fact no ground and this flora is the only thing keeping them from falling into some pit of doom.

He starts to panic but then he feels Castiel tighten his grip on his hand. “I got you, Dean.”

Just like that, he feels better - Castiel and his ability to make everything right. He’s pretty sure the world could end but if he had Castiel with him, saying those simple words, giving him that look that he’s giving him right now, yeah, he’d be fine with it.

“Watch your step here,” the other Cas warns, as he and Chuck climb over a fallen tree.

Dean goes first and extends his hand to Castiel to help him over, and when he does, Castiel slams into him, clumsily and Dean wraps his arms around him to prevent him from falling. Now they’re close, bodies touching, and Dean smirks.

“Man, if only…”

Castiel grins. “Come on, Dean.” Castiel tugs his hand and laces his fingers with Dean’s, pulling him. They both chuckle as they catch up to the others and that’s when Dean notices how close they are. Cas stops and turns to them, letting his backpack strap fall from his shoulder.

“We can do the spell here. We’re close enough.”

He sets the bowl down onto the ground as Chuck reaches into his backpack and pulls out a pouch, a small ziploc of red powdery stuff, some bones from who knows where (and Dean really doesn't want to know), a vial filled with a grey milky substance, and a lighter.

Dean watches Cas pull out of his own backpack; a piece of cloth, some green twig things, a crystal that's more shiny than Dean’s ever seen one look, and lastly, a feather.

“Those are a lot of ingredients,” Dean says.

Cas looks up at him. “Yes, before I lost all my powers, I made an inventory run, collecting items commonly used for spells. I was very glad I did so, for now it would be impossible to acquire these.”

“Good call there, Cas.”

Cas smiles at him. “Okay, I need to focus here. Guys, if you see anything out of the ordinary when I start the spell, ignore it. From what I’ve read, it’s known to make the area charged with power, sometimes causing things around to shift and bend. Don’t pay any attention to it, I assure you that you are not in any kind of danger.”

They all nod.

Dean and Castiel sit down as the other two start the spell. “Can I help?” Castiel offers?

“No, I think it’s better I do it since it’s technically my dimension, I don’t want anything weird to happen.”

“Uh, weird like how?” Dean asks.

Cas stops pouring the powder into the bowl to look at him. “This place knows my energy, it’s where I belong, so trying to repair a tear here; it’s going to be using my energy as well, combining it, and if it doesn’t recognize the person doing the spell, it could go wrong, and when I said ‘weird’, it could alter this dimension permanently and possibly bleed yours into it, causing a catastrophe on a global scale.”

Castiel sighs. “Yes, of course. I didn’t think of that.”

“Catastrophe?” Dean asks them.

“Like our dimensions would collide and that could either mean: both will be destroyed or merged and either one is not something we want.”

Dean glances at Castiel who is nodding in approval. “He’s right,” Castiel says to him.

Cas continues mixing the ingredients with help from Chuck, whose job is to hand Cas what he asks for, one at a time. Once he gets everything he needs, he pulls out a notepad and clears his throat. When he starts to recite the spell in Latin, Dean notices a few sparks ignite inside the bowl. He leans forward to get a better look put Castiel pulls him back.

“Don’t,” he says, authoritatively.

The Latin turns to Enochian and that’s when the sparks really begin to fly. The three of them duck with their arms over their heads, shielding them from the onslaught of tiny specks of fire, but Cas ignores it, his face fierce and determined as he recites the rest of the spell.

The wind picks up, and when it seems like a whirlwind is growing around them, Dean grabs hold of Castiel. “Is this what he meant by seeing something out of the ordinary?”

“Not sure,” Castiel answers, clinging to Dean as well.

There’s zero visibility now, and Dean hangs on to Castiel for dear life. He can still hear the other Cas reciting the spell, his voice growing in volume against the thunderous roar of the wind. Suddenly there’s a crackling sound and a blinding light emanating from the portal area. Dean is sure it’s working and that’s when he starts to feel a slight tug of his leg.

“What the…”

It feels like someone is actually pulling him, so he tries to jerk his leg back, but the unseen force is really _that_ strong. Castiel grips him tighter, that it’s actually starting to hurt. Even at half power, his angel is a strong son of a bitch.

“Cas, something is pulling me,” he yells out, unsure if he can even hear him.

“Me too, Dean. Just hang on to me, okay?

The crackling gets louder, and now he’s seeing actual bolts of lightning crashing down in and around the portal. “Cas, come on man, hurry this up,” Dean shouts to the other Cas.

Dean’s legs are now almost in the air, and he realizes now the actual portal is what’s pulling him, so he looks back at Castiel and he tries to crawl his way closer to him, but it fails. Castiel is moving to him, reaching for his legs, but then Dean almost slips out of Castiel’s arms.

“I think I’m being pulled in Cas!”

The light beaming out of the portal is too bright, Dean has to close his eyes, and then there’s debris flying everywhere, hitting his face, his chest. He still feels Castiel’s arms around him so he clings to him as well.

He doesn't know which end is up now, it feels as if his body is tumbling in a dryer. He’s flipping, turning, the pull now starting to hurt his joints. A loud crash is heard somewhere in the distance and then from what Dean could tell with closed lids, the bright light fades. Once he knows he can open his eyes, he notices the wind dying down, the debris around them starting to fall, but he’s a lot closer to the portal than he was a second ago.

“Whew that was close--” Dean turns around, his head dizzy and his sight growing dim. He’s trying to maintain his balance before he falls, his arms outstretched, reaching for something to hold onto. He’s stumbling, and as he wavers, he feels himself bump into something.

Dean is trying to blink into focus, and when he notices that there is a bearded man, wearing a linen shirt with beads hanging off it, a flowery scent coming off of him, his eyes snap open.

“Hey man, sorry,” the man says to Dean, giving him a once over.

Dean is pretty sure he’s hallucinating, but his main concern is Castiel. He turns back to the portal which is now closing rapidly. He looks down to see Castiel sitting on the ground, rubbing his head. He races over to him and drops to his knees. “Cas man, are you okay?”

Castiel nods. “Yes, I… oh no.” Castiel looks around and Dean does the same, and that’s when they notice that they are not in the woods near Chitaqua, but in what looks like a park - a _huge_ park in the midst of tall skyscrapers. People are all around them, some walking dogs, jogging, having picnics, tourists taking pictures…

“Hey, are you guys okay?” The bearded man asks them.

Cas and Dean just look up at him, blankly and give a hesitant nod. The man just smiles and walks away, leaving behind that trail of flowery aroma. Looking now at Cas, Dean’s helping him onto his feet

“Uh Cas, I don’t think we’re in Kansas City anymore.”

Castiel grabs Dean’s shoulder. “I believe we’re in Central Park.”

Dean’s eyes widen. “In New York City?”

Castiel nods. “And the _where_ I wouldn’t really be asking right now. It’s the _when_ that I’m more concerned with.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Either there’s some Hippy revival here or we just got sent back in time," Dean says, studying the 

By the looks of it, they are definitely not in 2015. Okay, so it’s not so different except for the fact that people are actually talking, interacting, and their noses aren’t in their phones or devices. That’s a good sign something isn’t normal. And the clothes, music, sure, people of today could dress like this, or listen to classic rock - as he does, but it’s a feeling, a _deep feeling_ he has in his gut that this is, in fact, not their time.

A small group approaches them holding signs, singing some song that Dean’s never heard of about war and doves or some shit. The women are in prairie shirts and long flowing skirts, the men in ripped jeans and tie-dyed t-shirts, and Dean would be rolling his eyes if he wasn’t in shock.

They come closer and one of the girls - blonde, with small yellow flowers in her hair - smiles at him and Castiel, and hands them a flyer. “Keep on keepin’ on, brothers,” she says to them with a wink, before continuing on her way with the group.

There are more people in small huddles shouting things like: "make love, not war." Dean can hear The Doors playing on radio that’s placed inside a circle of people who are doing some weird mediation or something.

Dean and Castiel look down at the flyer in his hand and they both gasp.

**_Come join our Peace Rally_ **

**_‘Bring the Troops Home from Vietnam’_**

**_Where: 4th and Mercer. When: Aug. 14th 1969_ **

**_Be there or be Square._ **

His head swims and thoughts of how impossible this is fills it. “The sixties? We’re in the sixties?” Dean asks, scanning the crowd again and holy shit, this really does look like--

“We’re not in _our_ time, that much I know.”

Dean folds up the flyer and shoves it in his pocket. Sure, it’s weird but he wants to hang on to it, as a souvenir. Castiel watches him with a raised brow, and Dean figures he’ll explain later. “How in the hell did we end up here?”

“You’re guess is as good as mine. I’m still not entirely sure this is even real.”

“What?” _Oh please don’t say things like this, Cas._

“I mean, I know it’s real,” he says as he tugs his arm. “It’s just very weird and almost hard to imagine how this could have happened.”

Dean nods as they sit down on one of the benches to gather themselves. He shrubs his face, trying to ignore the Jimi Hendrix lookalike - roller skating guy in front of them.

Maybe it’s just some effect of the portal, maybe closing it caused weird things to happen like Cas warned them about. Maybe in five minutes, they’ll be back in the woods, outside of Chitaqua, with Cas and Chuck there.

He gets up and walks over to a man who’s sitting cross legged on another bench, seemingly meditating or something, so Dean taps him on the shoulder. The man opens his eyes, looking at Dean as if he’s a million miles away. His blood shot eyes are scanning him, but as if Dean is transparent, like not really focusing on him. There’s a kindness to him, though, a certain gentle vibe which is why Dean approached him in the first place.

“Hey, you’re interrupting my conversation, man.”

Dean looks around at the amount of people this dude is _not_ talking to. The guy’s pleasant face now turns hard, but more like a kid who’s pissed that someone took his candy, rather than someone who would like to see Dean dead, and that he can handle. “Uh, what?”

“I’m communing with the higher beings, the Gods who’ve given me insight to the nether realm. They’re telling me to listen closely to the trees, they have stories to tell.”

The man looks around with glazed eyes, and then smiles at Dean who is _this_ close to having a nervous breakdown. “Can you just tell me what year this is?”

“Woah, you’re lost in time, man?”

Dean’s eyes widen and soon Castiel is now standing next to him. “Uh yeah, how’d you--”

“I see you, man. I can tell. You had that yellow acid, didn’t you? That batch messes with your head. You need to let it work its way out of your system. Try meditating.” He pauses. “Or drink some milk, ya dig?"

“No, I mean the out of time part, how did you--”

“Once you accept your true self, man, let your inner child out, let him play.” He smiles wide for them. “You in love? Let your heart out then you’ll fall back to earth. You’ll be in your time again. It’s one of the first lessons I learned when I began this journey.”

They watch him blankly as he continues, “We’re all just small fish in the big pond which is the universe. And it doesn’t stop there, my friends. No. It goes on and on, an infinite road that leads to every unanswered question you’ve ever had.”

The guy closes his eyes and smiles. His face is lifted toward the sky and then when he lowers it, he snaps his eyes open. “You want all the answers you seek?”

Dean’s not sure if he’s asking him or Cas, so he does his best to contain his impatience and breathes a heavy sigh. “Sure. All the time,” he says, trying to hide the grim tone of his voice, so he paints on a smile.

The guy reaches over for his satchel and pulls out a folded piece of tin foil, opens it, carefully, and then he holds it out for them. Dean looks down at small pieces of paper with a sunflower design on it, cut into tiny squares. “You wanna come with me?”

Castiel holds his hand out but Dean grabs it, pulling it back. “Uh, no, we’re good. Thanks.” Dean shoots Cas a look that makes his eyes widen, obviously now understanding that they really don’t need LSD right now.

“But sometimes, brothers, we need to look at what’s in front of us in order to see what’s around us. Like what Huxley says, and I quote,” he looks down at a book Dean now realizes is in his hands.

“I was not looking now at an unusual flower arrangement. I was seeing what Adam had seen on the morning of his creation - the miracle, moment by moment, of naked existence…”

Dean glances at Cas, wondering if this means anything to him, because it definitely does nothing for _him._ Castiel shrugs, keeping his attention on the man, as if he really does have the answers they seek, so fuck it - he’ll play along.

“Woah, that’s deep,” Dean says, trying to contain his laughter.

“To become fully human, man, proud man, the player of fantastic tricks, must learn to get out of his own way: only then will his infinite faculties and angelic apprehension get a chance of coming to the surface. In Blake’s words, we must ‘cleanse the doors of perception’; for when the doors of perception are cleansed, ‘everything appears to man as it is—infinite.’”

“And is that--”

“Yeah man, more Huxley. The man is a genius.” He shows them the book titled: _The Doors of Perception_. “You read this?”

Dean and Cas shakes their heads and share a look as Cas leans in. “I don’t think he’s referring to time travel as we know it,” he whispers.

“Yeah, ya think?” Dean turns back to the dude. “Okay, year?”

“Year?”

Dean inhales, deeply and lets it out slowly, trying to calm his nerves. He remembers now that he's never had patience for these kinds of conversations. It reminds him of his talks with Crowley and how it could literally take an hour just to get to the point of the damn thing.

“Just humor me, guy. What year is this?”

The guy just shrugs. “1969, from the human perspective.”

Well, either this guy is totally out of his damn mind - which is very likely anyway - or that they actually time traveled. How is this even his life? After the man recites another long and drawn out passage from this book, Dean thanks him.

“Hey, no problem. I wish you well, brothers. My name is Jeremy, by the way.”

Dean nods and introduces himself and Castiel and after a brief, awkward silence they turn to walk away from him.

“Did we go through that portal?”

“I think so, yes,” Castiel answers

“Holy shit, Cas. What the fuck… I thought - I thought nothing bad was gonna happen. What the hell was that all about?”

Castiel furrows his brow and sighs. “Something went wrong. The portal closed, but with us on the other side of it.”

Dean shakes his head. Fucking figures. Nothing can go smoothly, can it? They try to do something good, help people and this is what happens. He figures it could be worse, though. At least they’re in the sixties and not some prehistoric time. Now, _that_ would suck.

“Do you think it sent us back to our own dimension, just in the wrong time?”

“That’s possible,” Castiel says, stroking his chin.

“And what about the other Cas and Chuck? They didn’t get pulled here.”

“Probably because we didn’t belong where they were, so it pulled us out.” Castiel begins to walk so Dean follows. “This is troubling.”

“Understatement.”

They walk along a paved area that seems to snake through the entire park. They pass by more groups of people sitting in circles, singing along to the songs they’re playing on their guitars. There’s a certain calm, a peace within this area and Dean’s pleasantly surprised.

“Okay, so you obviously can’t zap us back, right?”

Cas shakes his head and looks down at his feet. Dean tugs his shirt, trying to get his attention. “Hey, it’s okay, Cas. We just need to figure out how to get back another way, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Castiel grimaces. “It’s not that easy, Dean.”

Dean inhales, recognizing the smell of marijuana and his teenage days come back to him: him and Jerry, sitting in his room, walls decorated with posters of 2pac and Smashing Pumpkins, and sharing his favorite bong that he liked to call Bongzilla. They’d get a little high, fool around, play video games, and for a brief moment, Dean wasn’t Dean Winchester: the hunter, but Dean Winchester: the teenager who likes to hang out with boys, especially ones called Jerry.

Dean’s smiling at the memory when Castiel nudges him. “Are you paying attention?”

“Oh, what, sorry. Was thinking about--”

“There are spells, powerful ones that may be able to get us home, but I have no idea where to even begin.”

Dean thinks about that for a moment and comes up with nothing. All of his time travel excursions were from an angel’s mojo, so he’s in the same exact boat as Cas - he has no fucking idea where to begin.

“We’ll figure it out Cas. We’re not getting stuck in 1969.”

 

* * *

 

The streets are buzzing with life, music playing from open car windows, taxis cutting people off, pedestrians taking strolls with their families and friends. It’s warm, sunny, and the energy in the air isn’t so bad. A far cry from where they just came from.

They continue to head down Fifth Avenue and pass by a number of cool looking stores that Dean really would love to check out, if they weren’t in such a fucked up situation right now. But there are record shops, all vinyl and he stops in front of one and he feels like a kid in a candy store. “I just want--”

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Cas says, smirking at Dean.

If the cigarette smoke isn’t making them cough, the incense sure as hell is. But Dean doesn’t care. This is authentic - a real record shop in the sixties, complete with a Frank Zappa look-a-like behind the counter.

Dean’s sighing at the concert posters littering the walls: the Doors, Zeppelin, Crosby, Stills, & Nash, and wow, Pink Floyd. What he’d give to go to any of those concerts. He’s about to ask Cas but he knows it’s a stupid idea. They really need to find a way back to their time, he knows it. He also knows Castiel is too weak in his mojo to do it himself.

He remembers how it nearly killed him all those years ago when they went after Anna.

“Welcome to the Shack.” The guy says from behind the counter, his voice low and his words drawn out.

Dean smiles at him and continues to go through the vinyl. There’s one he’s especially looking for and bingo. The Who’s _Tommy._ He pulls it out, grinning at the cover as he flips it over. Cas stands next to him and rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Something special with this?”

“Dude, it just came out. The Who’s Tommy just fucking came out and I’m holding a new goddamned record of it.”

“Would you like to buy it?”

Dean nods and then turns to Cas. “Fuck yeah.” Dean heads to the register.

“Good choice man. I have a feeling this one’s gonna be hot," Frank Zappa wannabe says.

“Oh, I definitely think so.”

Dean grins and waits to be rung him up. He reaches for his wallet and gives Cas a weary look, hoping the guy won’t notice their cash might have future dates on it. “That’ll be $3.50.

Wow, cheap as hell. Dean pulls out a five dollar bill and anxiously rolls back on his heels until the guy hands him his change and slips the vinyl into a paper slip cover. “Here ya go, Enjoy it.”

He sure will. Once Cas and Dean are back on the sidewalk, Cas gives Dean a look: a raised eyebrow, head tilt and _now what?_ “What?”

“We don’t even have a record player here, Dean.”

Dean shrugs as they start to walk. “Yeah I know, I want to take it back with us.”

“If we ever make it back.”

Dean stops and turns to Cas, placing a hand on his arm. “Hey, we’re gonna get home.”

“Right, me without enough power to do it. How will we do this exactly? We have no internet, no means of transportation--”

“Libraries are free, dude. Yeah time consuming but I bet we can find some books on time travel or some shit,” Dean tugs Cas’ shirt and walks. “Come on, we’ll figure it out.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“This library is huge.” Dean says as they walk inside. He’s already feeling overwhelmed by the size of the place. Endless rows of books, tables with little lamps on them, each step made on the wooden floors seems to echo throughout the building. He’s never seen a library this big. He’s used to the small town ones that maybe had two floors if they were lucky. This one, though, goes on forever.

“A wealth of knowledge at our fingertips. We should start with metaphysics.”

The nice librarian escorts them and they both sigh at the walls and walls of books they have to sift through. The sixties seems great, but this… Dean realizes now just how spoiled and accustomed he is at having simple things like Google.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dean says.

Cas doesn’t waste any time diving in, grabbing five, six books at a time and placing them down on the table in front of them. Dean inhales, grumbles a little, and opens his first book. “You know this is gonna take us forever, right?”

“Just read, Dean. I don’t see another option. Besides, this was your idea.”

After hours pass which actually feel like days, Dean’s eyes had just about enough. The books aren’t old enough, or lending in any useful information. They’re mostly written by some crack jobs talking about their theories and all the ‘what ifs’, and hey doesn't this photo look out of time?

Of course some of them had the right idea, these weren’t like the books in the Men of Letters archives. These weren’t the lore books Sam used to find with just a click of the mouse.

More and more Dean begins to doubt they will ever get the hell out of here. Sam won’t have any idea, and he’ll do that spell tomorrow and when Dean and Castiel don’t return, what then? Will Cas from Chitaqua contact Sam, tell him what happened? It’s all a little crazy and he’s starting to think that maybe this might not be the best route to take.

“Cas, what if we… try and track down some hunters. I know around this time my mom and her family were hunting, maybe--”

Cas’ eyes rise from the book. “You want to visit her again?”

“Well, if they can guide us to the right people, you know, every hunter knows someone working the hoodoo. It’s worth a try.”

Castiel lets out a dramatic breath. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because of your emotional state, Dean. Seeing her again, it might not be wise. You really shouldn’t do this to yourself.”

Of course, Cas is right. It probably would kill Dean all over again to see his mom: young, alive, with all those hopes and dreams. She’d be a few years younger than when he saw her that time Cas had sent him back to figure out what Yellow Eyes was up to. Still, it would open that wound all over again knowing more now than he ever did then.

“Okay, you’re right, but I bet there are some people I can look up. I just have to try and remember Dad’s old contacts.”

“That sounds like a good idea, and Dean,” Castiel rises. “I’m getting hungry.”

As soon as Cas says it, Dean’s stomach growls. “Shit, me too. Let’s eat.”

They decide to leaves the books behind, for now. It seems Dean’s idea of finding a fellow hunter would be the quickest way to get some leads on witches - dare he even think it - or someone who could at least steer them in the right direction.

They find a small diner not too far from library and head inside. He recognizes Blind Faith’s _Can’t Find My Way Home_ playing and chuckles at how appropriate this song is right now. Another feeling of excitement comes over him realizing that this album actually just came out too.

“Table for two?” a bright eyed, attractive waitress asks them.

They both nod and she finds them a booth by the window. Dean’s already amped, ready to get the ball rolling. After the waitress takes their order, Dean asks if she has a phone book. She gladly runs to the back and hands it to him, smiling widely.

“Thanks,” Dean says to her, smiling at her raw enthusiasm.

She walks away and Dean notices that Cas is smiling at him. “What?”

“I think she likes you.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “So you can tell when someone is into me, but you can’t tell if they’re into you?”

Castiel tilts his head and looks up at the ceiling. Turning his gaze back to Dean, he says, “I guess I’ve noticed this since we met, the way people take to you. It’s not like you’re hard on the eyes.”

Dean blushes. “Fuck, Cas. You keep this up, you might get laid tonight.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

Dean guffaws just as the waitress comes back with their burgers and fries. Dean felt adventurous and ordered them milkshakes and as she places the large cup in front of Cas, he smiles, enthusiastically. This, he can’’t wait to see: Cas and a strawberry milkshake.

And there it is.

“My God, this is so good, Dean.”

A cheerful look comes over Dean as he watches his angel enjoy his very first sugary ice cream drink. It’s funny, really, for Dean has known Cas for seven years now and yet he still has the ability to amaze him. There have been so many firsts, so many times he’s witnessed Castiel experience something altogether new for him. And for Dean to be so smitten with him, it makes it all so much more enjoyable to watch.

After soaking in the site of his beloved angel and his orgasmic way of enjoying his food and drink, Dean takes a bite of his burger and growls a little.

_Damn good._

Flipping through the phone book, he tries desperately to remember names. He hasn’t referred to John’s old journal in eons and he is a little amused that he wishes he brought it along for the ride.

A last name keeps popping up in his mind. Someone who’s long dead in his own time, but he remembers his dad talking about him living in New York.

_Tanner. Something Tanner._

He tries to rack his brain, recalling all those late night conversations he and his dad had about other hunters - some of which John would call out of the blue and touch base with. Dad had a lot of connections, he knew a lot of other hunters, and Dean’s beginning to question why he and Sam… don’t.

Sure there was Rudy, and just thinking of him sends a chill down Dean’s spine, followed by the inevitable nausea of remembering what he did to him. There are a few others Dean has called upon over the years, but that’s it. It seemed Bobby and his dad knew a hell of a lot more, and didn’t really lose touch with any of them.

Dean’s beginning to realize that he and Sam have been real loners when it comes to this stuff. Why not call for help? These are trained hunters and sure, they might not have the experience of going against people like Abaddon, Cain, fucking Lucifer… but they weren’t in any way, rookies.

He makes a mental note to bring this up to Sam when they get back. It’s time to rally forces when the shit hits the fan. Dean would much rather ask them for help, then the ones he’d asked in the past, who only ended up dead. Charlie, Kevin…

He’s aware of how much they wanted to help, in their own ways, and he would have been a real asshole to think they were lacking the qualities of being on his team. Charlie was brilliant, as well as Kevin and what they offered was incomparable. They had the hearts of hunters, and minds of geniuses. Still, the guilt gnaws at his very being, knowing that their lives were cut short because of him, his decisions, his choices that also led to the mess they’re in now.

His mind is back in the diner now, searching the phonebook for Tanner and hoping he’d recognize a first name once he sees it.

“Anything, Dean?”

Dean shakes his head and takes another bite of his burger. “I think I remember one guy my dad used to talk to. He lived here in New York, that much I know. I just can’t remember his first name.”

He hears Cas sigh. “Oh. Well, good luck.”

Dean looks at Cas. “How’s that burger?”

Smiling, Cas says, “Delicious.”

Dean is now forgetting what in the hell he was doing with this phonebook as he gets lost in Cas’ eyes, those damn blue eyes that have always - since the day they met - filled him with this certain warmth in his belly. “We may need to crash somewhere tonight.”

“You _do_ realize the wards would have to be redrawn if we hope to get back to the other Cas. He still needs our help.”

“I know, but how in the hell do we do that? Any idea how to reach him?”

Cas tilts his head. “We can try dreamwalking later.”

“Yeah, okay. Our best shot anyway.”

After he nods approvingly, Cas finishes the last of his meal and sits back in the booth, massaging his stomach. “I ate too fast,” he says before he burps, causing them both to snicker.

Dean goes back to his search when he stops on Joseph Tanner, who lives right here in the city on East 38th street. Bingo. “I think this is him. Joseph… it really rings a bell.” He scribbles his address on a napkin with a pen that was being used as a bookmark.

“Great. Let’s go to him.”

Dean reaches into his wallet and leaves the cash on the table, unsure of what the bill even is, but he’s pretty sure he’s over paying and that waitress will at least be pleased about it. He winks at her as they head outside and Cas rolls his eyes at him.

“What?” Dean says.

“You always have to work that charm,” Castiel says, playfully.

“Jealous?”

Cas stops and turns to Dean. “I’ve had to put up with this for years. I’m used to it.” Cas grabs the napkin out of Dean’s hand and looks down at it. “It’s not far, we can walk.”

Dean is just grinning as they cross Madison Avenue and head east. Going to another dimension and now being stuck in the past could have been worse, but he has his angel with him and it really makes a hell of a difference. If he was alone, he’d be in full on panic mode right about now.

As they head to Joe Tanner’s place, walking through the streets of a busy New York City, Dean looks down at Cas’ hand and grabs it, lacing his fingers with his. Castiel looks up at him, shockingly but then a smile creeps on his face.

Dean doesn’t care who’s looking, who might be whispering things about them as they cross the bustling avenues, because for the first time since they met, Dean can do exactly what he’s always wanted to with Cas, and that is to visibly want to be with him. Now that they’ve crossed that line, he doesn’t want to go back to how it was. Not ever.


	14. Chapter 14

They reach the small tenement building and Dean opens the front glass door and searches the names on the buzzers. Tanner. Apartment 4. He presses it and waits. Glancing around, he notices the peeled paint, some graffiti of peace signs, words like: _No War_ and _Peace Is The Answer._ It dawns on him that John Lennon’s _Give Peace a Chance_ just came out and a smile creeps up on his face. He knows he is too damn excited about this recent time jump, but come on, when will he ever get to witness these things ever again?

“Hello?” A voice calls out from the small speaker above the buzzer.

“H-hi Joe? Joe Tanner? This is uh…” Dean tries to think of a way to get this guy to know he’s a hunter. “I’m a friend of the Campbells. I need your help.” Dean looks at Cas, waiting for him to give him an approving nod, unsure if he should have even used that last name, but if this guy's a hunter, that name must carry some weight.

The sound of the door clicks open as an obnoxious buzzing sound echoes throughout the lobby. They head inside and climb up the steps to the first floor. It’s an old building, not kept up very well, leaking water in the corner of the stairwell, as well as part of the railing coming loose. What used to be carpet, is now just an old memory, worn and frayed, and he won’t even try to figure out what that smell is.

They reach apartment 4 and Dean knocks, the sound loud, bouncing off the walls of the hallway. He hears movement on the other end, and then the slide of the peephole. Dean looks up at it and flashes his best smile, before the click of locks being open is heard and the door slowly opens.

“Campbells?” The older man asks.

Dean nods. “Yes sir, a good friend of Samuel’s, actually.”

Joe Tanner eyes him from head to toe and then peers at Cas. “Who’s he?”

Castiel clears his throat and extends his hand, awkwardly. “I’m Castiel.”

Joe snaps his head back and furrows his brow, making his wrinkles that much more profound. He’s gotta be in his mid sixties, if Dean’s doing his math correctly, but he looks at least fifteen years older than that. His face is long, mouth in a permanent frown, and his eyes set deep in his skull, with dark bruises underneath. His voice is a clear indication that this dude is a chain smoker.

“What kind of name is that?”

Dean interrupts, “Look, we kind of need your help. I’m uh, we, uh… we’re looking for anyone who might know something about time travel and portals.”

“You kidding me?” Joe smirks and steps away from the door. “Just come in, I don’t want my neighbors hearing this.”

They step inside as Joe walks slowly to his comfy chair. “Last time they heard me talking about hoodoo and weird crap, they tried to _‘clear out my chi’_ or some shit like that. These hippies are out of their damn minds, and _we’re_ the crazy ones?”

Dean chuckles, studying this man and it warms his heart a little at how much he reminds him of Bobby. The man offers his couch for Cas and Dean to sit, and they do so, as Dean takes a look around.

It’s a small, cramped place; one window overlooking the street with an air conditioner jammed into the space, part of which is exposed and probably doesn’t even work. His bed sits in the corner, unmade, wool blankets strewn around it. The wallpaper is barely visible anymore and he wonders if it’s the original of when this place was built. It’s cozy though. Hunters don’t need much, just a place to sleep and eat.

He learned that at a very young age. Clothes, enough that can fit in a duffel. If they get ruined, they buy more at whatever army surplus or Walmart is around. They don’t hang onto things, souvenirs, anything of value because they never know when they would just have to take off and leave their belongings behind.

Dean’s changed since living in the bunker. He now buys things for his room, has tons of extra clothes, and he even has his very own record collection. The fact that they even go food shopping now is a far cry from getting take out everyday while on the road. He wonders if his future will be him, alone, in the middle of books and weapons, like this guy, or Bobby.

Dean watches the older man sit down with a grunt and reach into a cooler, pulling out two bottles of beer. He raises his eyebrows, holding them out for Dean and Cas, and they gladly accept.

“So, how long you boys know Sam.”

Dean’s stomach flips and he has to remind himself that Samuel, not his brother, is who he’s referring to. Here comes the lies, and good thing he actually did meet that son of a bitch. “Uh, pretty well, I guess. Listen we--”

Before Dean could finish, a shotgun is aimed at him. “You wanna tell me why you’re lying to me, boy?”

Cas immediately leans toward him as Dean hold up his hands. “Samuel, tall, balding, has a wife Deana, and a d-daughter Mary.”

“Anyone can know that. See, he don’t send other hunters to me unless he calls first and I ain’t heard from him in months, so who the hell are you boys and how do you know who I am?”

Dean and Cas share a look, and despite his heart pounding in his ears, he takes a deep breath, and tries to appear calm as he stares down the barrel of a gun. “My name is Dean. Dean Winchester. I’m from the future.”

Dean cringes. Even he sounds like a fucking lunatic to himself. The man doesn’t budge so Dean continues. “Cas and I, we’ve been trying to help someone in a, uh, parallel universe, we got sent back in time, and here we are,” Dean finishes with a nervous smile, his hands shaking.

“Do I look like a fucking idiot to you?” Joe says, his piercing eyes cutting right through Dean.

“Sir,” Cas starts, “He’s telling you the truth. We need your help so we can get back to our time, and back to our mission.”

Joe flares his nostrils at Castiel. “There’s something off about you, son,” he says to Cas and then he turns to Dean. “How do you know Sam?”

“Can you just lower your gun? We’re not here to fuck with you. We really do need your help.”

Joe sits back in his chair and he does indeed lower his gun but he keeps it on his lap, ready to fire it off if he has to. Dean sighs a breath of relief and rests his hand on Castiel’s knee, causing Joe to eye him curiously.

“He’s my grandfather. Mary is my mom. It’s a long ass story, Joe.” Dean glances at Cas briefly, seeing the worry on his face. He’s starting to regret even coming here. What did he expect, really? This guy is a seasoned hunter and if Dad had come to him for help, he must have been a damn good one too. He’s prepared, weary of strangers, and he sure as hell ain't gonna trust Dean right off the bat.

Joe is hard and stiff, dissecting Dean with his stare but he’s their only shot. “Will you help us?”

“Depends. Where did you get my name?”

“My d-dad. He uh, you guys are friends, or I guess not yet but--”

“Who’s your dad?”

“John. John Winchester.”

Joe looks up, stroking his chin. “He a hunter?”

“He will be.”

Dean hopes he doesn’t have to get into why his dad became a hunter. Thankfully, Joe eases and releases a drawn out and dramatic breath. “Say I believe you. Say I believe this cockamamie story of time travel. How in the hell am I supposed to help you?”

“We need to know if you have a connection with anyone who might know how to--”

“Lemme guess, time travel?”

Dean and Cas nod in unison.

Joe shakes his head and takes a sip of his beer, which Dean had totally forgotten he had as well. His throat is closed, too constricted to even think about taking a swig, even though he desperately needs it. He needs something to calm his damn nerves.

“You know, I’ve been a hunter for a long time. You boys know the life expectancy of a hunter?”

Dean swallows. Bobby, Ellen, Rufus, Jo, Rudy… “I know it’s not a long and happy life.”

“And look at you. Already older than most. We’re lucky to see past thirty.” He takes another drink, relaxing his gun, so Dean can breath now. “How have you survived this long, huh?”

Dean takes a look at Cas and tries to hold back the slight smile creeping on his face. “Cas here, he’s an angel. If it weren’t for him half the time, we’d… my brother and I--”

“Wait hold up,” Joe leans forward, his brow creasing. “Angel?”

Castiel nods. “Yes.”

Joe sits back and laughs, a gurgly sound that comes from years of smoking. “So angels are real, are they?”

If it wasn’t for Dean going to Hell, breaking the first seal, which yeah, could have led to the damn apocalypse, then he’d not even believe in angels either, and he didn’t back then. Not until one saved him from the pit. He’s not sure if he’s proud or ashamed that the his fuck up is the reason angels are now common knowledge in hunter’s circles.

“Look, can you help us Joe? I remember my dad, he-he used to say you had a lot of connections to people on the fringe.”

“So is God real too then?” Joe asks Cas, ignoring Dean.

“Yes, he is.” Cas sneaks a look at Dean before smiling at Joe. “And archangels are real, and so is the devil.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Joe rises from his chair and the boys watch him walk over to a rickety bookshelf. He pulls out a dusty hardcover and blows on it, creating a small cloud of soot. He reaches for a folded piece of paper and stills for a moment, staring at it in his hand before returning to his chair. Sitting down, he hands the paper to Dean.

“Her name is Sylvia. She lives in Brooklyn.”

Dean opens the paper and reads her name with her address. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, tell her I sent ya. She don’t have a phone, so you’ll just have to hope she’s there.

After Joe bids them farewell, Cas and Dean are back on the sidewalk. It was weird seeing an old friend of Dad’s who he hasn’t even met yet in this timeline. He spoke highly of Joe, though, and Dean recalls his dad calling him many times for the same thing. He supposedly knew a lot of people in low places and most of them were shady as fuck. So much so, that when his dad would meet up with them, Dean wouldn't be allowed to join. He’d stay back at the motel with Sammy and that had always made Dean incredibly curious.

Dad knew a lot of people, some good, some not so good, but he was no stranger to people with abilities. There was Missouri, who was pretty amazing in her craft. Dean just hopes this Sylvia is the same and won't’ try to kill them as soon as they arrive at her doorstep.  


* * *

 

The subway ride was quick and the whole time, Dean was having flashbacks of when he was here with his dad and Sam all those years ago: his drunken night at CBGB when Dad came to get him, striking fear in the hearts of all the bad asses in the club. Dad was scary as hell, and it wasn’t only monsters who feared him.

He remembers all the times Dad pulled him out of trouble from either underage drinking to random bar fights. There were even times Dean had to be rescued from bullies who felt it necessary to beat up guys who were hooking up with other guys. Gay bashing, or whatever Dean called it back then.

Dad never spoke about those times again, but Dean knew that he wasn’t all that happy about it. While he never had any real proof Dean was engaging in same sex activities, Dad sure as hell suspected it and he never looked too pleased about it.

Yet, he was never completely sure how he’d feel about the fact that Dean was interested in men and had in fact, engaged in intimacy with them. Would John have reprimanded him? Would he have told him that he’s a disgrace? Or would he have embraced it, accepted Dean for who he was, without making him feel like he had to hide that part of himself.

Dean didn’t ever want to find out, so he kept it hidden.

It’s stupid really, because here he is, in love with his best male friend and there isn’t anything in the universe that could make him feel weird about that. Does he need to keep it on the down low? No. He doesn’t. No matter how he was raised, or what his father had instilled in him, he’s damn proud of this awesome person by his side.

His Cas, who loves him, unconditionally. Who’s seen the worst parts of Dean and continues to think the world of him. He’d be a fool to try and keep what they have a secret, because damn, he had to live for years doing just that; burying his feelings for the angel, all because he was too chicken shit to find out if he felt the same way.

Dean smiles at him as they walk up to the surface. He’s a lucky son of a bitch.

Dean takes a look around. It’s a quiet neighborhood and it’s already getting dark. He has no idea where to even begin to look for her street, so when he sees a young couple walking hand in hand down the sidewalk towards him, he approaches them.

“Excuse me,” he waits for them to make eye contact, “I’m looking for Windsor Place.”

The woman smiles at Dean and points in the direction behind them. “Just a block that way. You can’t miss it.”

Dean thanks them and he and Cas make their way to Sylvia’s. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t anticipating some off the wall, cuckoo chick. The sixties is definitely a strange time and as he and Cas pass by a group of people doing some kind of interpretive dance on the sidewalk to Jefferson Airplane’s ‘White Rabbit’ (Dean shudders), they both look at each other. Dean laughs at Cas’ confused expression.

“Come on, you don’t remember the sixties?”

Cas shakes his head. “I wasn’t down here at that time. I wasn’t always on earth, Dean.”

He thinks about that for a bit and wonders how much he _has_ seen when he was down here. If he missed the sixties, that’s probably just a speck of time compared to how long he’s existed. It still blows Dean away at how old Castiel _really_ is and it's him, Dean, who Cas chooses to be with.

They walk up the brownstone steps and he looks for her mailbox, searching for a Sylvia Baxter. Just then, a young woman joins them on the steps and eyes them from head to toe.

Dean looks at her and is suddenly struck with familiarity but he has no idea why. She’s pretty - no, she’s gorgeous, her smooth dark skin peeking out of her prairie style shirt, hair in curls that seem to bounce with each movement. But it’s her eyes that Dean can’t seem to break away from - those deep brown circles staring right into him.

“Can I help you?” she asks, with a hint of an attitude, and Dean’s not sure where that came from.

“Yeah, hi,” Dean smiles. “I’m Dean, I’m looking for a Sylvia Baxter.”

The woman snaps her head back to take an even harder look at Dean and then she glances at Cas, her expression hard and untrusting. “Who sent you?”

“Joe Tanner, he said we could… wait are you her?”

She’s clearly young, maybe late teens, early twenties, and he really had been expecting someone a bit older, but she seems guarded and clearly knows who he’s referring to.

“She’s my mom.” The young woman eyes Dean again. “You said Joe Tanner? The hunter?”

Dean nods. _Thank god_. “Yes.”

After a pause and more hard glares, she shrugs and gestures for them to follow her. “Come with me.”

The woman opens the door and leads them up two flights of stairs. The building is in much better shape than Joe’s (and smells a fuckton better as well) and as she inserts the key into the door, she turns her head in Dean’s direction and quirks her brow.

“My mom, she’s… kind of eccentric but she’s not crazy. Just so you know.”

Dean and Cas share a look as the young lady leads them inside. It’s a small apartment but bigger than Joe’s, and it’s littered with crystals, trinkets, statues of goddesses, and everything else that Dean would expect in the home of a hoodoo practitioner. Luckily she’s not of the witch variety, so no animals bones and chicken feathers - that’s always a plus. The faint smell of something sweet lingers in the air, almost like fresh peaches.

“Missouri?!” a loud voice calls out from the other room and Dean does a double take.

_Missouri? As in Missouri Mosely? Holy shit._

“Yeah, ma! Some guys are here to see you!” she calls out.

Dean’s speechless, staring at a young Missouri who he had seen ten years ago when he was still looking for his dad. He understands now why she looks so familiar to him. Sure she’s younger, _a lot_ younger, but her eyes… he had never forgotten her soulful yet intense glare that always demanded attention.  Dean wants to giggle at the memory of how he had always seem to piss her off, even breathing made her mad at him.

“Is there a reason why you’re staring at me?” she asks him, eyes like daggers now.

Dean smiles. _Yup, there she is._ “Uh no, sorry, you just look like… someone I used to know.”

A woman, dressed in a long flowing dress and shawl emerges from the hallway, bangled bracelets making an awful lot of noise in contrast to the quiet of the room. Her eyes are warm, and the smile on her face shows Dean that she’s not going to throw them out (or turn them into frogs).

“Oh, look what we have here.” Sylvia sits down in an oversized chair and brings her hands together above her lap. “Dean and Castiel.”

Cas moves close to Dean as their eyes meet. Dean turns back to Sylvia, narrowing his gaze “You know who we are?”

Sylvia smiles and gestures with her hand at the sofa across from her. “Sit.” She looks up at Missouri. “Go get some tea and open that new box of cookies I bought from the market yesterday.”

Missouri nods and quickly scurries off to the kitchen.

Dean can tell Sylvia has power. He’s always been able to pick up on these sort of things when it comes to his lifestyle. Knowing who you're dealing with at all times is an important rule of the job, one that so many hunters neglect, only to end up cursed or even worse. Psychics and hunters don’t really go hand in hand, and while it seems they work together from time to time, there's never a whole lot of trust between them.

Except for John and Missouri. That was a long friendship that Dean hadn’t discovered until Dad was gone.

“I know you because I know and see many things. I know you boys are from the future, and I know why you’re here, but before you ask me if I can get you back to your time, you need to answer one question for me.”

They each nod. “Okay, shoot,” Dean says.

“How far are you willing to go down the rabbit hole?”

Dean smirks. “Is this a blue pill or red pill thing, Morpheus?” Dean jokes to an unamused Sylvia and an equally confused Castiel. He chuckles, nervously and then clears his throat. “We just want to get home.”

Sylvia sits back, scanning Dean before she softens at Castiel. “A real angel in my living room. This is… well, I don’t even know what to say.”

Castiel blushes and looks down at his feet before smiling, crookedly at her. “Not a very good one.”

“Oh hush. We all make mistakes, dear, and I do see that you are a very special angel. I also see that your love for this one here has led you to many wonderful experiences.”

Dean looks at Cas, his face now as red as the angel’s, because Dean’s still shy about the word _love_ even though he really shouldn’t be. Just this morning they were in that cabin, sharing the most intimate thing two friends can share together and no, Dean hasn’t stopped thinking about it since.

How Cas felt against his skin, the way his hands touched him, his mouth devouring him. How they took each other apart and put each other back together, as if it was always the way they should have been. Crashing into each other. Becoming one.

And Dean has never felt anything like it before.

“Anyway, there’s something you need to acquire for the spell to move through time. Something extremely hard to get but knowing you two, you just might pull this off.”

Dean shifts in his seat. Impossible quests, hard to find items, he’s been through it all but by the look on Sylvia’s face, he has a feeling this is going to be one of those difficult and risky missions that he fucking can’t stand.

“An urn,” she says as she eyes Dean. “It’s last known location was in the hands of Dexter Feelgood. He’s a real character.” Her face changes to one of amusement.

“He’s a charlatan,” she continues. Never remains in one place for too long, but he has the specific urn, though the rest of the ingredients may be much harder to come by. Even harder than tracking down Dexter.”

Dean smirks. _Dexter Feelgood? Really?_ “So what are the other ingredients?”

Sylvia sighs. “An angel feather,” she looks at Cas, “tears of a dragon, a pinch of the sands of time--”

“Wait, hang on. I heard this before.” Dean looks down as he tries to remember why this sounds so familiar and then it dawns on him. Henry. The blood sigil, blood leading to blood…

“This leads to your blood, right?"

Sylvia nods. “Most of the time, yes. I’m not really sure what the spell actually does but I know that when it comes to time travel - that doesn’t include portals appearing out of nowhere, such as in your case - it’s safer to travel to a blood relative.”

Dean looks at Cas. “Henry. My grandfather. He-he did this spell. I bet these ingredients are all at the bunker.”

Cas’ eyebrows raise. “But the key?”

“Crap. He brought it with him when he traveled to our time.”

“Well,” Sylvia says as she clears her throat to get their attention. “Then you boys have some searching to do. I can give you a list of hunter friendly hoodoo shops where you might be able to obtain the ingredients.”

“This urn, I don’t remember Henry mentioning it,” Dean says to her.

“Well, the spell can be done without it, but there’s no saying what timeline you’ll end up in. The urn assures that you will be sent back to where you belong.”

Dean sighs. Of course, because Henry had no idea what timeline he was in. He had no control over it. His stomach flips and his brow begins to bead with sweat, just thinking about doing this. Magic is so goddamned unpredictable and fuck their lives if he and Cas can’t get home.

It would have been nice to be able to get in the bunker too. He could leave Sam a note for him in the past like he did that one time he was time traveling.

Missouri comes back with a platter of cookies and tea and sets it on the coffee table in front of them. Dean reaches for the cookies first, because damn they look good and he watches Cas pick up the tea, blowing on it to cool it down. Dean takes his tea cup as well and sits back, throwing his leg over his knee. He smiles at Missouri.

“Don’t worry, I won’t put my feet on your coffee table.”

Missouri narrows her gaze at him. “Excuse me?”

Dean waves his hand, chuckling. “Nothing, it’s nothing. Just something--”

“Wait, do we know each other in the future?”

Dean remembers how amazingly accurate she had been back then, and how she went in, so bravely to help that family with the poltergeist. Sure, she didn’t care much for Dean, he still admired her, and so did his dad, apparently.  

“Actually yeah, and you really can’t stand me,” he says, smiling at her.

She sits down in the chair next to her mother and shakes her head. “Well that doesn't sound like me, you seem very nice.”

Sylvia laughs, reaching for her own cup. “Well, isn’t this kismet.”

“You were close with my dad, you helped him a lot… and then you helped my brother and I on a case. You're super good, like your abilities blow me away.”

Missouri’s eyes widen and after she quickly smiles at her mom, she leans in. “A real hunter’s case?”

Dean nods.

“Okay, okay, let’s not swell her head even more now. She still has years of training and I ain’t letting her get tangled up with you boys right now,” Sylvia interrupts.

“Of course. Understood,” Dean says and Cas agrees as well.

Sylvia takes a moment to jot down the places they should check for the ingredients and hands it to Dean. “So you boys know what you need, I’d suggest you get on it.”

Cas and Dean nod and rise, Dean extending his hand to Sylvia. She looks at it and shakes her head, moving to her feet as well. Grabbing Dean, she pulls him into a hug, and Dean wasn’t expecting that at all.

“I feel like you boys are family already.” She pulls back. “Good luck on your journey.”

Dean smiles and moves aside so Sylvia can hug Cas, and it’s really funny to watch him, as awkward as he is when hugging people he barely knows. But he hugs her back, warm and affectionately, and smiles at her.

“And you, angel, you watch over this man okay?”

“Of course,” Cas says, glancing at Dean.

After shaking Missouri’s hand goodbye, they go to leave but Sylvia lightly touches Dean’s shoulder. He turns to her, Cas as well, and she smiles, widely. “One more thing.” Her head tilts and her warmth seems to be overflowing.

“True love is important and we don’t always get to experience it. You boys are lucky. Don’t let it go. Don’t ever let it go.”

Dean’s stomach fills with butterflies and he can feel his heart pounding hard in his chest. Cas reaches for his hand and grabs it, and for a brief moment, Dean feels dizzy.

“We won’t,” Cas says.

Dean swallows, his throat suddenly dry now and he just smiles at her. He knows talking would be pointless, as he has forgotten how to do that.

She shows them out and soon they’re back on the pavement. _True love._ He has never heard those two words together when it came to him and someone he’s involved with. It’s not a surprise though, that Cas would be his one and only.

For all the years he’s known him, and all the times he tried to push back his feelings, it never worked, and just the fact their bond is stronger than anything he’s ever felt before, aside from family, it makes sense.

And Cas said, _“we won’t”_ and that means Cas thinks of it the same way. Dean suddenly feels like he’s not ready for this. This is too much, too soon. It’s too big. And now he’s laughing in his head at himself.

Too soon? They’ve been waiting for seven years for this.

A car horn breaks him from his thoughts and he realizes they’ve been standing on the sidewalk, with no idea where to go next.  He forgot how humid New York is in August, and he’s already sticky, in desperate need of a shower. Of course, now he’s thinking of his shower this morning with Cas, and he’d like to do that again the next chance they get.

“I can’t believe, of all the people, places, I meet a young Missouri.”

“She was good to you and Sam?”

“Yeah, I mean, she couldn’t stand me, but she really liked Sam, and I know her and my dad were close.”

“Then this is all meant to be. Quite remarkable.”

He smiles at Cas as they head down the quiet Brooklyn street. Dean looks around. “We need a car.”

“I thought New York public transportation was incomparable."

“Yeah, well, still. Some of these places here are far. Long Island, I remember doing a job there with Dad and you _so_ need a car, and here,” Dean points to the list. “Yonkers? Yeah. Car. Now.”

“In other words, steal one…”

“You have a better idea?”

Cas cracks a small smile. “I guess not. Okay, let’s get on with this.”

They find the most secluded street to search for a car, and Dean settles on a Camaro, ignoring Cas’ pleas for the yellow VW Beetle that he swears would be much better for them. Dean shakes his head at Cas’ really weird taste in cars.

 

* * *

 

He hot wires it pretty quickly and they’re soon driving around to find the freeway. They decide to hit Long Island first, hoping they’d only have to make this one trip and this person will have everything they need.

Dean’s pretty sure that won’t be the case, given his luck, but he can hope.

“You seemed distracted in there. Is everything okay, Dean?”

Dean side smiles and turns down the radio. He’s been distracted since they left the cabin this morning and despite being thrown back in time, he’s on cloud nine.  “Yeah, just thinking about stuff.”

“What stuff?” Cas asks, grimly, which makes Dean do a double take.

“Woah, calm down. Just stuff. Like last night and this morning stuff.”

He sees Cas’ hard glare soften and he soon smiles at him. “Me too.” His expression changes and when he arches his eyebrows, Dean almost loses focus on the road. “You’re not… regretting anything, are you?”

“What? No. Of course not. Cas, come on.”

“Okay, I just want to make sure. I know how… reserved you are about these things, and--”

“It’s just the opposite okay?” Dean’s face is on fire and he grips the steering wheel for some kind of release from these awkward feelings that he wishes he didn’t have. “I kinda want to do it again. Like as soon as possible.”

Just the thought makes him grow hard in his jeans.

“Like now?” Cas asks.

Dean inhales deeply and turns to Cas, and just the way he’s looking at him, like he always does with those raised eyebrows and puppy dog blues, he smirks and quickly turns the wheel, pulling the car off to the side of the road.

_Yes now. Right fucking now._

They’re kissing as soon as he turns the car off. Dean’s gripping the back of Cas’ shirt, wanting it off of him. _Stupid shirt. Stupid clothes._ Cas is reaching for Dean’s belt, not wasting any time with slipping it through the belt hoops and starting on his jeans.

While lip locked, they climb over the front seats and into the back. He hears Cas moan his name and it is driving Dean so crazy, he’s not even sure he can speak. And _my God_ , when they lock eyes, it’s like the world is stopping just for them. They’re not even in this car, or in this damn universe, but somewhere private, where only they’re allowed to be.

Dean’s pressing his body on Castiel’s, their bare chests rubbing together as they hastily remove the rest of the clothes. He’s not trying to be suave, or even coordinated at this point, he just knows that he needs to feel Cas’ body under him, naked and warm, his soft skin coming alive under Dean’s touch.

Cas breathes Dean’s name again and it makes him throb so badly, thoughts of him coming in his underwear start plaguing him. No, he has to stop reacting like a damn teenager every time Cas says, “Oh Dean.”

_Dammit._

He’s sliding Cas’s jeans down to his thighs, taking his underwear with it, and does the same. Their erections are finally free and _finally_ touching, making Dean’s heart and head explode. They’re kissing without letting up until Dean has to pull back to take a breath, and their eyes are locked. While grinding, pressing together, Dean is suddenly struck with the reality of what they’re doing. Him and Cas… naked, again.

“Cas, is this okay? Like, here?”

Cas takes a break from that obscene and delicious sound he makes when he’s experiencing pleasure to smile at Dean. “Yes, of course. Why?”

“Just making sure.”

Dean lowers his head, once again needing some kind of confirmation that this is all okay with Cas. Not that it wouldn’t be, Cas isn’t some babe in the woods or anything, but from his experience, and Cas’, he doesn't want to mess this up. He just wants it all to be perfect, as he knows they’re meant to be.

True love. The words echo through his head, refusing to let him hear anything else now. When he looks into Cas’ eyes, those blue pools that are staring back at him, Dean’s heart races, and he’s unsure if he can keep his gaze without turning into a love fool.

Those eyes. Cas’ eyes. He sees an angel older than life itself, and yet the angel who pulled him from Hell, who has been by his side ever since. Who had a million questions about humanity, but who has taught Dean so much about life. Who told Dean he was worthy, or more importantly, made him _feel_ it.

He’s moving harder now, Cas stirring underneath him, his hands grabbing Dean’s ass and pulling him down. Dean’s mouth is on his, his arms resting above Cas’ head, hands in his messy brown hair.

Dean’s fingers tangle in the trestles, and he’s never felt so damn close to him like this, before. It’s not just having their naked bodies together, but to be able to _feel_ him, his hands on him, the way his hair feels in between his fingers. His breath against his cheek.

He has to look at him again, because it’s still blowing his damn mind. All the years he’s imagined this, wanted it, craved it like a damn drug, it’s actually happening for the second - or no, wait - third time now.

_Thank God for that damn piece of enchanted land._

“Dean…”

He feels the warmth spread in between them as Cas comes and it’s all it takes for Dean to join him. He opens his eyes and grins at Cas’ drooping lids. He’s come to love all his angel’s expressions and files them away in his mind. This is Cas after feeling something extraordinary, this is Cas, pleased, and it makes Dean feel like he’s floating.

Dean relaxes now, sliding half of his body off of Cas to lay beside him, best he could in the small backseat of the Camaro. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of lying like this, feeling those strong arms around him, holding him, protecting him.

“You don’t have to keep checking with me, Dean. I assure you that everything we’re doing together is something I very much want.”

Dean chuckles, feeling kind of stupid for even having to ask before. “I know, it’s just habit, I guess. I kinda get pushy, and--”

Cas squeezes him, planting a kiss on the top of his head. _Holy shit that feels good._ “I’ve wanted this as much as you, Dean. If you knew… I’ve imagined doing things to you, taking what I’ve yearned for all these years, ripping your clothes off.”

Cas laughs now and Dean really wants to as well, but he’s kinda in shock at what Cas just said. And _kinda_ turned on again. “Really? I can’t even imagine you… wow.”

“Consensually, of course. I’d never do anything you didn’t want, even in my fantasies.”

Dean’s heart is racing because this is just all so fucking crazy. Sure, he found out recently that Cas has always had feelings for him - loves him, in fact,  but the angel was also fantasizing about him? Sexually? And that just makes this all so much more awesome.

Cas continues. “Especially those nights at the bunker before coming here. I-I admit that I might have gotten a little carried away one night.”

Dean lifts his head to look at Cas because this just got really fucking interesting. “Carried away?”

“I _may_ have pleasured myself, the night before we came to Chitaqua. I had been in your room earlier and there had been so many thoughts going through my head, and--”

Dean kisses him, smiling wide while doing so. “So did I.” His eyes grow wide. “Wait, that night, we were both… dude, I remember that. It was so real, like you were really there with me.”

Castiel nods. “Yes, I felt the same way. It was as if it was really happening, the fantasy that is.”

“Yes!” Dean lifts up onto an elbow. “Was that because you were thinking of me too? At the same time?”

“Possibly. Our energies, our essences merged, I guess.”

Dean’s face is hot, his heart beating hard in his chest. This is unbelievable but so damn awesome at the same time. What _aren’t_ they capable of, together? “You… did stuff to me, were you thinking that too?”

He sees Castiel flush and avert his eyes, but a small smile creeps up on his face. He faces Dean and his smile widens. “Yes.”

“Well damn, Cas.”

Suddenly Cas is pushing Dean off of him, making the hunter eye him, curiously. _What’s he doing?_ He’s crawling out from under Dean and pushes him back against the seat.

_Oh._

Cas has a sly smile as when he positions himself between Dean’s legs, and Dean’s already rock hard, knowing exactly where this is heading. Castiel takes him in his hand, stroking him while staring right into Dean’s eyes.

He knows he can see how red he is, how shy yet turned on. This is all very new and even now, just watching Castiel as he lowers his head to take Dean in his mouth, he isn’t sure this is real. Dean gasps at the feel of his warm tongue moving down the shaft, then up again, swirling around his swollen head.

He doesn’t want to know why Cas is so damn good at this, how he knows exactly how Dean likes to be touched, he just wants to close his eyes and lose himself in this feeling. The way his mouth moves up and down, sucking him.

But he can’t take his eyes off of Cas. It’s just too unreal, Dean’s afraid he’s going to wake up, in the bunker, or that cabin in Chitaqua and this would have all been just a damn dream.

Cas is moving faster and Dean’s now gripping Cas’ hair, tangling his fingers, before he explodes in his mouth. He knew he wouldn't last long, he was ready to come even before Cas started this.

“Fuck, Cas…” Dean hisses as he empties himself into his friend’s mouth.

Cas swallows and smiles up at Dean, looking up at him with those sparkling eyes. Dean leans forward to kiss his swollen lips, tasting himself on them.

“Did you like that?”

“What do you think?” Dean chuckles.

Castiel lowers his head to Dean’s stomach and it makes him tingle all over, feeling his lashes blinking against his skin. He’s gently caressing Cas’ head, fingering his hair, his thumb gently stroking his forehead.

_Unbelievable. Look at us._

“Cas, can I ask you something?”

The angel pops his head up and nods at Dean, his eyes wide and beautiful. Dean swallows and says,  "Is this all… I mean, if you had all your mojo, would you still be into me this way?”

This question has been burning inside him and he knows that there really would never be a good time to ask it. No matter what, there’s the reality of insulting Cas with this but he hopes his angel understands.

“Why?”

Dean smiles but he’s a ball of nerves and he wishes he heart wasn’t feeling like it’s on the brink of breaking. “Just curious.”

Castiel softens, his eyes wide as he stares at Dean. He can’t help but caress the side of Cas’ face, and he watches him lean into it, wanting it, wanting this intimacy. “All these years that I’ve been with my power, I’ve never wanted you any less. I’ve just been able to control it better.”

“So, that means you’ll still want... this, even with your grace fixed?”

“Oh, Dean,” Cas withdraws and he’s shaking his head, almost in disbelief. “Of course I’ll want you. I’ve always wanted you, I already told you this.” He pauses and smiles. “I think we share an incredible bond, to be able to have felt each other that night.”

“Profound?”

Castiel giggles, making Dean’s heart speed up and his stomach flip. The things his angel does to him, even surprises Dean because he’s never been this taken by anyone in his entire life.

“Yes, of course. We are-- we’re connected, always.”

“Come here,” Dean says as he slips his hands under Cas’ arms and lifts him so that they’re face to face. “If I knew, like if there was any hint that you felt the same, I would have made my move so long ago.”

Castiel beams. “Me too.”

“Wow, we’re the two biggest idiots on the face of the planet, aren’t we?”

“Probably.” Cas lowers his head to Dean’s chest, and Dean’s compelled to play with his hair again, always wishing to do so in the past. “I love you, Dean. I always will.”

Dean’s stomach burns and now he’s choking on his own saliva. He wants to tell him everything, he really does. How much he loves him, how he never wants to live without him, but instead, he just kisses the top of his head, hoping Cas already knows all this. One day he’ll be able to say it back. One day.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: drug use.

The first person they visited was a bust, so they’re on their way to next location, which is in Yonkers. Dean’s starting to lose hope; depending on people he doesn’t know, and who also seem half out of their minds, except for Sylvia and Missouri, of course.

This last guy, if Dean had to guess, was hopped on drugs, lied about pretty much everything he told them about his business - which was running some hoodoo store that looked more like a head shop - and knew bubkes about the ingredients they needed.

He wishes that he brought the damn bunker key with him on that trip to Chitaqua. He knows that everything they need would be right there in the filing cabinets - easy peasy, but no, instead they have to drive all around New York seeking people who may or may not have the stuff they need to get home.

And that also leaves them with the quest in finding this Dexter Feelgood character, who supposedly has the special bowl they need to pull this off. What fun.

Cas fell asleep halfway out of Long Island, so Dean's making sure to drive as smoothly as possible and has the radio off. He opens the window to let in some air before he actually falls asleep as well. His eyes are heavy and when he quickly glances at his watch, he realizes just how late it actually is.

He’s been up for sixteen hours straight and under normal circumstances, that would be fine for Dean; he’s driven many hours straight without a wink of sleep but after everything that’s happened to them, what with the portal sucking them into a different time, and the stuff between him and Cas, he’s fucking exhausted.

They need to get home, but they also need to sleep, and he decides to find a roadside motel. This person they are heading to may not even be awake, let alone in their shop. The reality of them being around at this hour are pretty doubtful.

Dean finds a cheap motel off the highway and gently nudges Cas once he gets the key for their room. His angel yawns, scrubbing his face, and looks around, baffled. “Where are we?”

“The Sundown Inn,” Dean says after he turns to read the sign he had missed when he drove up. “Come on, we need sleep. This guy ain’t gonna be around at,” Dean looks at his watch again, “half past midnight.”

Cas nods and exits the car. They head to their room and as soon as Dean shuts the door, Cas is face down on the bed. Dean removes his shoes for him and pulls the blankets over him, and all Castiel does is make a cute whimper. His breathing grows heavy as he drifts off, once again.

Dean kicks off his own shoes and takes his place next to Cas, noticing that they really don't have a change of clothes and they should probably pick some up tomorrow before the ones they’re in become rank. It’s not like they’re clean either, from the trek in the woods to being thrown around the portal. Come to think of it, they must actually look like a bunch of hobos.

He runs his fingers gingerly across Cas’ forehead, wiping away the hair that’s stuck to his moist brow. Of course now he’s lost staring at Cas as he sleeps which is thinks is going to be his normal routine now. Not only is this something Castiel never really had to do before, but the way he breathes, so calmly, deep and heavy, how sometimes his lips curl into a small smile, well, it’s too adorable not to stare at on a nightly basis.

He’s so in love, and it scares him half to death.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Miss Helen Newbury runs the Black Cauldron shop in Yonkers and she’s a older woman, plump, rosy cheeked, with a cheerful disposition. It seems her store is more of a gimmick and to anyone else, it would seem like a regular place that sells incense, candles, and glass figurines of black cats.

But as soon as Dean reveals who he is, or rather, _what_ he is, informing her that he was sent by Sylvia, her eyes widen and she leads him to the back room where she keeps all of her real hoodoo.

It's a small space, no bigger than bathroom, with shelves of books, bowls filled with different types of herbs, spell stuff. Castiel is already drawn to a shelf of statues, leaning over to get a good look at them.

“This is Herne,” Cas announces.

Helen smiles, warmly and nods. “Yes, the Celtic God of vegetation.”

“Oh,” Castiel picks up a statue of an angel holding some sort of hexagon thing with circles in it. “Metatron!”

Dean blinks. “What? Are you serious?”

Cas is grinning, shaking his head as he hands it to Dean to observe. He wouldn't have known that this specific piece of marble was anyone in particular and Cas seems to be getting a kick out of it. Dean looks down at the carved features and he appears so peaceful, so… angelic and he makes him want to smash it. Maybe over the real Metatron’s head…

“And look at Gabriel,” Cas muses, reaching for it and pulls it down from the top shelf.

“Hm, no Castiel?” Dean jokes, smirking at Cas.

Helen clears her throat. “Well, I’m not sure why these statues are so funny to you boys, but yes, I do have a Castiel, though when I ordered it, the thing was spelled: Cassiel, with an S.”

She moves a scarf aside that had been draped over the far side of the shelf to reveal another statue, this one a little brighter in color than the others and when Dean takes a closer look at it, he notices that there’s damn blue gems for eyes. He smiles as Cas, who’s surprisingly uncomfortable at his discovery.

“The blue eyed Cassiel: Angel of Thursday,” she says. “For some reason, he’s my favorite. Whenever I look at him, he seems so sad, and I just want him to be happy.” She chuckles as she shakes her head. “Silly, I know. It’s just a statue.”

“How much?” Dean asks her.

He ignores Cas’ glares and just eyes the statue which he now must own. “Well, not many ask for him, so I’m not sure. I guess ten dollars?”

“Sold,” Dean says with a grin. He turns to Cas who is now looking at Dean curiously.

They continue with their business there, as she wraps the Cassiel statue for Dean and places it in a box. He has no idea what his angel is thinking right now, but Dean just has to have it.

“Now, I’m pretty sure you’re not here for my angel statues.”

Dean tears his eyes away from Cas and digs into his pocket, handing her their list. She’s silent as she looks it over, and makes an agreeable humming sound as she folds it back up and returns it to Dean.

“I think I might have what you’re looking for.”

Helen, bless her heart, has all the ingredients they need for the spell, sans the bowl. She even has a number for them to call to track down the whereabouts of this Dexter Feelgood, and at least this is all a step in the right direction.

“How do you know Dexter?” Dean asks, curious as to why this guy is so damn popular.

“Oh, everyone in our circle either knows him personally or has heard of him.” She pauses, shaking her head. “He’s a strange fellow, I must warn you. “

Dean raises a brow. “Strange, like how?”

“He seems to know a lot about… well, everything. He says it’s because he can channel Heaven and Hell, which I assume is his way of saying he likes to smoke the maryjane.” Helen says, with a disapproving tone.

“Is he a psychic?”

“Don’t know. Maybe. I have only met him once and it was when he came here for some ingredients just like yourselves. But I knew all about him prior to that.” Her eyes widen at the last sentence. “He’s harmless though. Seemed gentle.”

“So, how long ago was this? That he came in here?” Dean asks her.

“This was last week.” Dean sees her blush so he glances at Cas, briefly, seeing if he notices it.

“And what did he buy, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Her face reddens even more so and she tries to distract herself by rearranging the items by the cash register. “Oh, this and that.” She looks up at Dean. “Mainly ingredients f-for sexual stimulation.”

_Ah, so he’s one of those. Probably has a groupie following as well._

After leaving the shop, Dean glances at Castiel as they head to the car. He smiles at his new outfit: Grateful Dead shirt and semi bell bottom jeans. They had hit a shop after leaving the motel that sold concert t-shirts and other casual attire and it was pretty funny that Cas went for that shirt, in particular.

Dean, himself is in a very similar get up, but his shirt is Creedance Clearwater Revival, and now he’s thinking about Woodstock and how cool would that be… but he shakes his head at the thought.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Did you really have to go and buy this, Dean?” Cas says, studying the statue as Dean drives.

As if he’d pass up the chance to buy an actual Castiel statue with gigantic wings, and just so happens to kinda look like him, which really makes no sense.

“Uh yeah. And why didn’t you ever tell me you really have blue eyes.”

“Didn’t think it was important.”

He grins, quickly glancing at Cas and then the statue in his hands. “Dude, they made a statue of you. How cool is that?”

“I still don’t see a point in us owning it.”

Dean blows air out between his lips and rolls his eyes. “Come on, it’s the best one there.”

He hears Cas chuckle. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, it’s the most beautiful,” and Dean almost chokes on that last word as his throat closes up. He steals a glance at Cas, whose face is as red as Dean’s probably is right now. He’s still trying to get used to talking this way with his angel, after spending years avoiding it at all costs.

The rest of the ride is spent listening to the radio, and Dean is getting a kick out of hearing the disc jockeys announcing this or that new album. At that thought, he glances at the back seat, making sure his album is still neatly packed. He can’t wait to bring it back to the bunker, sit it next to the others that he didn’t have the privilege buying when they actually came out. Add a nice Castiel statue to his souvenirs from 1969, and he's a happy camper.

Now they’re in search of Dexter Feelgood and every time Dean says that name in his head, he pictures a dude dressed like something out of the Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band album cover. Still, if this guy’s got the urn they need, and Sylvia seems to think he’ll be more than happy to help, he’s gotta be a decent person.

The first place they check is unsuccessful, but the woman still residing there was nice enough to give them an address to where he might have went. Dean’s beginning to think this is going to be a damn scavenger hunt, each place giving them more clues as to where this dude went.

And it ends up becoming exactly like that. Each address they check out seems to have one or more people steering them in a new direction, and by evening, Dean is beat and ready to hit the sack. Cas talks him into going to the last place they’ve been given but Dean swears they will have to call it a night and pick up where they left off in the morning.

He gives in to Cas because really, there is no way saying no to those eyes.

The house is set back from the street, the front lawn landscaped with wild flowers, bushes shaped in round circles, and a colored stone walkway leading to the front door. The patio has about a dozen wind chimes hanging, which are already making music as the wind picks up.

As they make their way across, Dean spots the driveway; pavement cracked with grass growing in between and a Volkswagen bus parked on it with painted daisies and peace signs covering the sides. Dean shakes his head and smiles.

Dean knocks on the door and soon after, an attractive blonde woman answers, smiling brightly for them. She’s probably in her mid thirties, dressed exactly as someone in this time would be dressed: hippy - but not overly, bell bottom jeans, a prairie shirt that is a little too big on her, so it’s hanging off of her shoulders - the sheer white cotton reveals the slight darker tone of her nipples as she is not wearing a bra.

_Ahh, the sixties._

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she sings, curling her hair between her fingers. Her eyes land on Cas and she licks her lips, eyes changing from surprise to hunger in a split second. “What can I do you for?”

Castiel blushes and turns to Dean, and he tries not to laugh. “We’re looking for Dexter Feelgood. We were told he’d be here.”

She leans on the frame of the door, one hand resting on her hip. Dean notices that she’s not exactly focusing on anything now, and if he has to guess, she’s probably a little stoned. “Well, that’s really far out man.” She smiles. “I’m going to see him tomorrow.”

“That’s great, so you know where he is?”

She shakes her head. “No.” She squints. “Who are you, again?”

“Sorry, I’m Castiel, and this is Dean,” Cas says, pausing before extending his hand for her to shake. She looks at it and smiles, gripping it tightly.

“I’m Sadie. Why don’t you guys come in, I just made some brownies, and I have a fresh pot of iced tea just waitin’ to be drunk.”

“That’s nice of you, but we should really be hitting the road, we need to find Dexter--” Dean hopes she understands that this isn’t a social visit, that they did come here for one thing, and that was to find out where this dude is, and for some reason, she’s not being very cooperative.

“That’s cool, man but I said I don’t know where he is,” she looks at Cas again, “right now, that is. I’m meeting him upstate tomorrow, and I have no idea where he’s coming from.”

Dean sighs. Of course this was going to be difficult. “So, can you at least tell me where you’re meeting him?”

“Sure, but like I said, ain’t no use going there now, ‘cause he won’t be there, so why don’t you guys relax here. Come with me tomorrow, we can all fit in my ride.”

Before Dean can protest, Cas is agreeing. Dean shoots him an irritated look as Sadie leads them inside her house. This is really the last place they need to be, and he’s pretty sure she’s expecting some kind of sexual payback for this, to which Dean is not at all going to offer.

A few years ago, he would have been thrilled to bang her, especially an authentic chick from the sixties, wearing a semi see-through shirt, is probably willing to do anything Dean wanted, and hell, is _probably_ expecting a threesome. By the way she’s eyeing Castiel, his guess is that is exactly what she’s thinking.

He awkwardly sits down on her soft couch, as Cas takes his place next to him. They watch her float away, hair flowing like a damn shampoo commercial, as she sings _I’m Free_ by the Who. Dean smiles at Cas. “From the album I bought.”

She comes back into the room with a plate of brownies and a tall pitcher of iced tea with lemon slices floating in it. “We’re gonna have so much together,” she tells them, sitting in a chair opposite of them.

“Look, we appreciate your hospitality but--”

“Eat up.” She smiles, pointing at the brownies. “They’re magic.”

“Magic--?”

Before he can stop Cas, he’s already shoving one into his mouth. “Dude, you know what she means by _magic_ right?”

Cas nods. “Psilocybin mushrooms, yes, and they’re rather good, Sadie,” Cas smiles at her, causing her beam back at him.

Dean has no idea what to do. He hasn’t gotten high since High School and even then, it was just some crap weed Jerry had. The most it did was make him giggle for ten minutes and want to raid a nearby Gas N Sip for junk food.

But when he turns to Cas, seeing it already hit him due to the wide grin on his face, Dean shrugs and reaches for one of the brownies. “Fuck it, here goes nothing.” He takes a bite, and yeah these brownies are pretty damn good, so he finishes it and then sits back waiting for the inevitable.

He hates this part: not knowing how fucked up he’s going to be from the amount of magic mushrooms he just ingested. He looks at Cas to make sure he’s okay, and by the looks of it, he’s enjoying the feeling already as he pours himself a glass of iced tea with a permanent grin on his face.

Under normal circumstances, Dean wouldn't even think of doing something like this. Being out of his mind, on any kind of hallucinogen is a really bad idea in his line of work. Drinking, sure he can handle. But drugs... well, there's a reason he steers clear of them. 

Trying to fight monsters, supernatural beings, while being high is not only dangerous, but really hard to do. He's done it, sure, when he was younger and Dad would whisk him away to some job in the middle of hanging out with some friends. Even Jerry would come visit Dean here and there, if he was in a place close enough and spend some time with him. They'd smoke a joint, or takes hits from his bong, maybe pop a hit of mescaline, only for John to interrupt them, send Jerry on his way so they can take down a vamp next across town. 

He's pretty sure Sam's had his fun with it but he was out of the life by then - in college, away from the things that go bump in the night. Sam was able to live a normal life for a while; go to school, have a hot girlfriend, experiment with the usual things kids his age experiment with. Doing things at a normal pace for someone his age, where as Dean had to grow up too fast, too soon, and eventually become the caretaker for his littler brother. 

Getting high, being out of control, even in the slightest bit was out of the question. Give him a few beers, some whiskey, and he can still do what he does best. Giving up that part of his life: the casual, hanging out kind of life wasn't a choice. It was necessity. With John gone half the time, and in between Dean hustling pool and making money in other more compromising ways, getting in trouble with the law for his countless B&Es and shoplifting, he had to be careful. If he was gone, Sam would have had nobody to look after him. 

“Sadie!” a female voice calls out and Dean blinks as another woman enters the room. Silky dark skin - shimmering from the light of the room, her hair wild and beautiful, and she’s wearing a long dress with a cinched belt that seems to be made from the same sheer material as Sadie’s shirt. Her feet are covered in strappy sandals that she kicks off as she makes her way over to them.

“You said you’d wait for me,” the woman says as she leans over to kiss Sadie on the lips.”

_Oh._

She turns to Dean and Cas. “Who’re they?”

“Delilah, meet Castiel and Dean. They’re coming with us tomorrow?”

Sadie smiles wide at them as Delilah takes her seat on her lap. “To our wedding?”

“Yup,” Sadie replies. After a few more pecks from Delilah, Sadie glances at them.  “Oh, Dexter is marrying us. That’s why we’re meeting him.”

“Congratulations,” Dean says, now feeling like an idiot for thinking Sadie was into them. It’s obvious by the way she is with Delilah that these two are very much in love.

Old Dean would be turned on right about now, seeing two women all over each other. He'd be fantasizing about them getting naked, maybe inviting him to join them, watching them go at it as he jerks off or something. But now, all he sees is two women in love, two women that are about to get married, and it warms his heart. 

“That’s beautiful! What fantastic news! May we watch the ceremony?” Castiel says, over enthusiastically, and it makes Dean giggle at him. _Oh man, he’s stoned._

“Of course!” Sadie tells him.

Dean shoots him a look and is about to make some comment about how they have plans, a lot work to do, when he begins to feel the effects of those brownies. His skin tingles, a warm electricity coursing through his veins and he’s suddenly happy, like _really_ happy and he has no idea why.

The room suddenly feels bigger, like it goes on forever, and as he looks around, he notices Delilah lighting candles, dancing around while the Doors plays in the background.

It’s all a movie, he’s in the center of some film where he’s the star, surrounded by lights, shadows, something glimmering in the distance… and he turns to Cas who is laughing, _really_ laughing as he’s talking to Sadie, and Dean thinks that he’s never looked more beautiful.

“Come here,” Dean says, grabbing Castiel by the collar of his t-shirt and pulling him close. Before Castiel can say a word, Dean is pressing his lips to his. He can feel Cas’ mouth still in a smile as he kisses him, making him grin himself.

“I need you to be laughing, like all the time. It’s the best sound I’ve ever heard,” Dean admits, suddenly not caring about the pure sappiness pouring out of him.

He hears a chorus of “awwwws” from the girls and he can't help smiling as he continues to kiss Cas. Delilah is pulling Sadie to her feet, begging her to dance, and for a moment, Dean just watches them, as they sway together, clumsily trying to ballroom dance to _Strange Days._  

The next thing he knows, he and Cas are both on their feet as well, spinning around (or maybe the room is spinning, he’s too damn high to tell now) and they're laughing, uncontrollably.

There's a pause in music and they all stand there in silence, staring at each other. It's awkward, but of course funny, as they all burst out laughing. _Moonlight Drive_ begins and soon they're all singing along to it, expect for Cas, who is just watching Dean and smiling.

Dean's taking his hand, spinning him around, pulling his angel close to him, trying his best to actually have some kind of dance moves but failing miserably. 

"Come on, baby, gonna take a little ride. Down, down by the ocean side. Gonna get real close, get real tight..." Dean sings in more of a whisper while wrapping his arms around Castiel.

He feels like he's moving through him, like they're not even in solid form. As if they're ghosts entering each other, invading each other's souls, but keeping it warm and safe, merging energies and essences. Becoming one. 

The fact that they’re stuck in the sixties, unsure if they’re even going to be able to get home doesn’t matter now to Dean. He’s having the time of his life, with the love of his life, and this night will go down as one of the best nights ever. He’s happy to have agreed to stay at Sadie’s place tonight, for she sure as hell knows how to have a good time.

And he’s even looking forward to her wedding tomorrow. Two people, so in love, so free and comfortable in their skin. What he’d give to reach that point with Castiel. It’s still so new, so fresh, he can’t even imagine marriage, but he’s also not knocking the idea either.

At that thought, he pulls back to look at Cas. His pupils are dilated, eyes glimmering, and it causes Dean to giggle again. Everything is making him laugh tonight, and it’s the best he’s felt in a very long time. Cas soon joins him in the laughter as they both fall back onto the sofa, with Dean on top of him. They kiss again, this time with hunger, passion but Dean stops himself before he rips his damn clothes off.

"I've never wanted anything or anyone more than I want you," Dean admits, wiping the smile off of Cas' face. Did he say something wrong? Or maybe he's just imagining the frown that is now on his angel's face, because really, why would that upset him? He's also way too high right now to let any of this register. 

He yanks him off the couch, forcing his angel to slow dance with him to Otis Redding belting out _That's These Arms of Mine,_ and they're both laughing at their lack of coordination, but it doesn’t even matter because they’re holding each other close, staring into each other's eyes. Sadie and Delilah are joining them, dipping each other as the song plays endlessly, it seems.

Shining colors swirl together as the candlelight bounces off of reflective objects around the room, casting strange shadows on the wall, and suddenly they’re not anywhere. He’s just with Cas, dancing in some other universe, or better yet, they’re in the stars, nothing around them but flickers of light and music echoing through the vast unknown.

And Cas is happy, smiling all toothy, eyes crinkling, laughing at nothing in particular and Dean just wants to hold onto him forever. His angel, his true love. His Castiel. And they kiss -  soft, chaste, and it’s like Heaven just opened up for them as his lips ignite from the contact. He’s seeing rainbows move around them, above them, soaring out into the void, coming back and crashing into them, only to cause them both to laugh again.

It tickles.

He’s trying to talk, but he can’t control his snickering at how ridiculous this all is. Here they are, high as kites, and all he can see is Castiel, shining and beaming with happiness. Dean’s heart is swelling and he thinks he actually feels it growing in his chest. There’s an ache, followed by a pounding, and instead of freaking out, he just guffaws, bending over and grabbing his abdomen.

He lifts his eyes to Cas, who is grinning at him and he erupts as well, his face red and alive. “I think I may actually die from laughter, Dean,” Castiel says, in between chuckles.

Dean cracks up again, grabbing his angel close and nuzzling his neck. “Nah, I won’t let that happen,” he says against his skin, kissing it and tasting the saltiness of his sweat.

They’re back on earth, back in that room that smells like incense: lavender. How long have they been dancing? Hours it seems. Maybe even days. Sadie and Delilah are on the couch, in some kind of deep discussion when they both turn to them, Delilah offering a wide grin.

“You guys take the spare room on the left.  We’ll wake you up in the morning.”

Dean feels his head nod, but he’s not even sure he made that happen, and he just goes with Cas as his angel pulls him by the hand to the bedroom. Things are coming to a halt, it feels. Like it’s the last part of a roller coaster ride, after all the excitement of fast turns, stomach aching drops, and the adrenaline of not knowing what’s going to happen next, the ride comes to a slow stop.

He’s lying down in the bed, Cas closes the door, already working on Dean’s shoes. Dean leans up on his elbows and smiles at him. Yeah, the high is definitely wearing off but the feeling of being with Castiel like this, laughing, dancing, is still making Dean feel like he's floating on some cloud of euphoria.

Castiel, so beautiful - so perfect, is climbing up Dean’s body like a cat, a look of determination on his face, licking his lips like he’s hungry for something. _Mmm._ Dean is already hard when Cas removes his pants and takes him in his hand, stroking him until he’s ready to explode, and then he stops abruptly, flashing a sly smile.

He can tell Cas is feeling normal again too, and he’s so hot right now, so utterly breathtaking, he’s still glowing from the happiness he just felt. “This night has been quite fun, don’t you think, Dean?”

Cas removes his pants, and quickly takes his shirt off as well, lowering his body back down on top of Dean.

“Yeah, never thought I’d be eating magic mushroom brownies,” Dean muses.

“Yes, this was a new experience for me.” Cas leans in, giving Dean a hot kiss, slipping his tongue in just a little to get Dean all worked up. “Dean, are you… sober now?”

Dean nods, coming up for air. “Yeah, why?”

“I just want to make sure before I do this,” Castiel lowers his head and takes him into his mouth, circling his tongue as he draws in his cheeks. Dean gasps at the feeling of his hot mouth devouring him and he can’t take his eyes off of him. How his eyes are closed, watching his erection disappear into his mouth, and when he pulls up, how it glistens in the moonlight that's shining through the window.

Cas starts stroking the base of the shaft and then slips his finger in his mouth. Dean watches him pull that finger out and move it down between his ass, and when he can feel the pressure at his opening, he inhales, sharply.

“Is this okay?” Castiel asks him, taking a break from sucking.

All Dean can do is nod and let out a squeaky sound that’s supposed to be a ‘yes’, but he’s not entirely sure what it ended up being. Castiel smiles, softly and slips a finger in, so slowly, as he moves his mouth back down to Dean’s cock.

Soon, he has a good rhythm, with both his mouth and his finger, and Dean spreads his legs a little wider as Cas inserts a second one, this time moving a little faster inside him. It’s too much really, all these sensations at once: Cas pounding his ass with his fingers, his hot mouth sucking him harder, faster.

Dean comes, and as he does, he literally sees stars - like tiny specks of light behind his lids and when he opens his eyes, he watches Cas drink him in, those blue gems fixed on him. “Jesus, Cas, “ he breaths out making sure he made actual words this time.

As soon as his angel is by his side, Dean hops on top of him, ready to repay him with a blow job - that he most definitely deserves. It’s been a long time since Dean has given one, but he’s pretty sure it’s like riding a bike. And he can't wait to finally taste his angel. He's imagined this so many times, he has confidence that he will know exactly what to do, how he likes it, what he expects. 

He slides down Cas’ body, he's watching him curiously as Dean begins to lick his stomach, then takes his time nibbling the skin above his hip bones, licking and kissing slowly to his thighs, sucking in the meaty goodness, before turning his attention to his balls.

The whole time, Cas’ eyes are locked, and they quickly close only when he lets out soft moans -  which to be honest, is making Dean hard again. Taking Cas into his mouth makes him hiss, and his head falls back onto the pillow, eyes squeezed shut.

Dean copies Cas and wets his finger, sliding it in him, as he begins working on his cock, licking the tip and swirling his tongue around the slit, moving down to take the whole thing in his mouth, coming back up, sucking a little harder as he comes back to the throbbing head.

He feels Cas’ fingers in his hair and Dean steals a glance at him, and is just blown away by the look on his face. His eyebrows are arched, lips slightly parted as he moans and gasps, his eyes dark and full of love, it actually makes Dean’s heart flutter.

It doesn’t take long for Cas to come into his mouth, pumping his warm nectar - that Dean knew would be sweeter than honey. Slipping his finger out of him, Dean crawls up to meet his mouth, kissing Cas with a certain softness that he really thinks he's reserved specially for him. Castiel wraps his arms around him and let’s out a soft sob against his neck.

“Cas?” Dean pulls up to see his angel with tears in his eyes. “What--?”

After a few seconds of Castiel trying to hold it together, he says, “Your affection. Your tenderness. It’s--” he chokes, and Dean has no idea what to do. Cas is crying - not a full on bawling, but enough to make Dean’s throat close up. “What you told me earlier, and now, it’s just so beautiful to experience this with you.”

Man, if this wasn’t the perfect time for Dean to tell him those three words, he has no idea when it would be. Sure, he’s let Cas know how much this experience means to him. How he never wants it to end. How he’s happier than he’s ever been. But he needs to say it all. He _needs_ to get it out because it’s all there, it’s all waiting to be said.

“It is, Cas. This whole thing is amazing. I-- I never dreamed we’d actually be here, now - like together like this.”

“I didn't mean to--” Cas wipes his tears away, and averts his eyes, almost seeming ashamed for his outpouring of emotion and Dean knows it’s his own fault. He makes people scared to openly feel anything around him and it’s because he’s spent so many goddamned years avoiding stuff like this at all costs - telling him and Sam to nut up when they became too emotional about things.

“Hey,” Dean rests his hand on Cas' cheek.  “I feel it too. It’s all there. It’s-- I just suck at-- fuck…”

Castiel cracks a small smile and lifts his head, kissing Dean on the cheek. “Shh, Dean.”

The next few moments they spend in silence. Mostly because Dean wants to punch himself in the face. Why can’t he just say it? Why is he such a coward? He thinks about all the times he could have told Cas everything - _everything_ that is inside of his heart, and frankly, it’s been too many times really. Countless moments when he just froze up and kept his mouth shut.

“When I’m with you--” Dean swallows, his heart racing. “I feel like I’m home. Safe, loved.”

Cas’ eyes widen and well up with tears again. Dean takes his thumb to brush away the one that streamed down his cheek. He continues, “Cas, you’re everything to me. Just so you know.” Dean’s face is hot, and he can feel the sweat begin to bead up on his forehead. He’s exposed, vulnerable but at the same time, he knows it’s okay to be this way with Cas.

“Dean--”

“Look, I’m not good at this. It’s hard for me to find the right words for how I feel, but I need you to know that I-- I don’t think I can ever let you go.”

He looks down, ignoring the pounding in his ears. His throat is dry and he licks his lips, trying to breathe again, hoping to calm the hell down. It’s when Cas leans in to kiss him, tenderly, that Dean feels an ocean of warmth crash over him. His heart slows, his breathing becomes steady, and he just closes his eyes as Cas takes him in his embrace.

They lie there for a while, Dean opening his eyes to stare out the window. The stars are bright tonight, and it seems more so than ever before. He imagines the world out there right now, in August of 1969. What people are thinking, the war, the music, their lives. He thinks of those peace rallies, one of which is going on tonight - according the that flyer he has in his other jeans’ pocket.

It’s strange being back in time, like when he had visited the seventies and saw his mom. His dad. So much will happen, and so much he can prevent from happening, but of course that would destroy the space time continuum and he’s pretty sure he’s in no mood to mess with any more timelines.

He couldn’t stop his mom from making that deal with Yellow Eyes, he couldn’t stop his grandparents from being killed, and even as he warned his mom about November 2nd, she wouldn’t have remembered a thing, thanks to Michael. She wouldn't remember seeing her son all grown up, visiting her from the future.

“I’m hungry. For real food.” Castiel says, bringing Dean back down to earth.

“Yeah, huh. We haven’t eaten all day, aside from those brownies.”

“Do you think the girls would mind if we helped ourselves?”

They share a look of mischief before throwing on their clothes and padding out to the kitchen, quietly, as it appears Delilah and Sadie have gone to bed; candles blown out, record player off, curtains drawn.

Dean didn’t pay much attention to the kitchen when they first arrived, but the old fifties decor, Dean has to admit is pretty cool. With the black and white tiled floor, to the kitchen table that looks like it’s straight out of one of those nostalgic diners with the thick metal and red stripes on the sides.

Everything is neat with hard edges, except for the refrigerator that Dean recalls seeing many times when he was a kid. Cas is opening it, peering in for something good to eat, something he hopes they won’t mind is missing.

“This! This is what we will feast on tonight,” Castiel says, holding up a bowl of fruit.

“Uh, I need more than rabbit food, Cas.”

Cas hands Dean the bowl and leans in, pulling out a block of cheese and box of crackers. “Yeah?”

Dean nods. “Sure.”

They take the snacks back to their room and sink down into the bed as they eat. Dean is smiling when Cas feeds him the fruit, making him actually eat something healthy. He doesn’t mind, because the way Cas picks up a strawberry, brings it to Dean’s mouth, makes him take a bite, so that he can eat the rest is pretty damn erotic and Dean has a feeling this is going to end up with them naked again.

It’s funny how alive he actually feels with Cas, like he’s a teenager again, youthful and full of hope and wonder. It’s like this whole ordeal has given Dean a second chance at life. A new reason to exist. He’s giddy, in love, and with Cas, everything is new. Everything with them is for the first time. Being touched, loved, adored on this level is something that Dean’s never experienced before.

“I wonder what this Dexter guy is all about,” Castiel says, in between chewing.

“Yeah me too. I have a thousand different images in my head. I just hope he’s cooperative. I don’t feel like getting into it.”

Castiel nods and takes a bite of the cheese, aggressively, and it makes Dean chuckle. “Yeah, that would suck,” Cas says with a mouthful and Dean can’t help but grin like a fool. He’s so human right now, adopting Dean’s phrases, eating, his dark hair a complete mess on top of his head, his cheeks flushed, and Dean just wants to eat him up.

He can still see the image of them in the living room, dancing together, slowly. Cas' head on his shoulder, their arms wrapped around each other. The way Cas would look up at him, take his face in his hands and kiss him. His eyes sparkling, so full of love and hope.

_I love you, Cas._


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay with this chapter! I was suddenly bombarded with work and then with my mornings being filled with JibCon news :D But here it is, and I hope y'all like it. Thanks for waiting.  
> ps. for those reading my other fic, "A Sky Full of Stars" it may be delayed a few days as well. 
> 
> :-) -Lauren

Morning comes too fast and Dean wishes that he closed the curtains before falling asleep, because now the sun is shining right on their faces, as if in purpose. Shielding his eyes from the brightness, he squints looking around the room.

He thought he’d wake up feeling like crap after a night of indulging, but he feels fresh, energetic and when he turns over to kiss Cas good morning, he sees his angel already awake and staring at him.

He starts thinking about last night, and how much fun they had together, doing things they would have never done, probably.

Dancing, laughing, enjoying time that had been given to them. How smitten Dean was at seeing Cas so happy, so relaxed, the way his nose wrinkled when he laughed, how his eyes sparkled, his whole face lighting up.

“How long have you been up?” Dean asks him.

“A few minutes.” He turns on his side. “I’ve been trying to remember my dream, piece it all together, because it was odd.”

Dean rolls over, yawning. “Odd?”

He nods. “I dreamed that we found Dexter, but we weren’t here in New York, but in Heaven. He was running from something, and when I tried to find out from what, he disappeared.”

“Hm,” Dean sighs. “Let’s hope this isn’t some sign that he’s going to try and avoid us, or something. We really need that bowl.”

Or risk being trapped in the sixties and never able to even see his family again, let alone screw with the space time continuum.

“Yes, I know. It’s just a dream, it just felt… familiar.”

Dean wraps his arm around Cas, planting a small kiss on his cheek. “Well, I wouldn’t think too much about it.”

He watches Castiel deflate, turning his head to press his lips to Dean's. “You’re right.”

A shuffling is heard from outside the bedroom, and they both jump when they hear a knock on the door, followed by giggling at how startled they are. “Hey guys,” a voice calls out from the other side of the closed door, that Dean recognizes as Delilah.

“Yeah!” Dean says, hoarsely. The door opens slightly and she peeks her head in, smiling. Dean pulls the blankets higher realizing that he and Cas are only in their underwear and had been half exposed as the covers lie in a crumpled mess at their feet.

“There are clean towels in the bathroom for you both, and Sadie is making some breakfast,” she looks down at her watch, “Or uh, lunch at this point. We’re hitting the road in forty five minutes.”

“Thanks Delilah,” Cas says, grinning back at her. She closes the door and that’s when Dean realizes it’s actually time to get up. He’d look at his own watch but he remembers that it hasn’t worked since they arrived at Chitaqua.

“It’s half past noon,” Cas says, sliding out of bed.

“Internal angel clock?”

He nods and smiles. “Funny how some things still work even when my powers are drained.”

It’s not long before they’re both in the shower, washing away the night’s activities. When they return to their room, Dean rummages through the duffel that he had bought and filled with all their new clothes, buying at least three new t-shirts each, just in case. Dean makes it a point to hand Castiel the new one he had picked out for him.

Similar to the rest of their new wardrobe: jeans and t-shirts, this one is a washed out purple Sly and the Family Stone tee, and it just looks adorable on his angel. Castiel looks down at himself, shrugging as they make their way to the kitchen.

Dean can already smell the sausage on the stove and his stomach growls, for last night’s snacks were definitely not enough for his large appetite.

“Good morning, you two! Sleep well?” Sadie says while she flips the eggs on the skillet.

“Yes,” Cas answers. “The bed was very comfortable. We can’t thank you enough.”

She winks at him as the rest take their seats at the table. Delilah begins to pour them all orange juice from a pitcher, and it looks freshly squeezed.

They have a nice little set up here in the middle of Yonkers. A small house, decorated with funky artwork: paintings with vibrant colors and interesting patterns. It has a feminine feel, with fresh flowers set in vases around the living room and kitchen, and Dean really likes it.

It’s a far cry from the bunker’s ‘end of the world’ decor with his wall of guns and other weapons hanging over his head. No, this is how people live who are outside of their world, away from the life of hunting - and in that life you hold onto as little as possible because who the hell knows when it will all go to shit.

“So, we didn’t realize until this morning that we totally forgot to eat dinner last night, so that’s why Sadie is making a feast for us now.”

“Oh, it’s okay. We, uh, kinda raided your fridge last night,” Dean says with an exaggerated wince.

“Yes, we noticed.” Sadie grins back back at him. “It’s fine, I would have done the same. We were so stoned last night, it slipped our minds.”

They share a smile and Dean gets a good look at her, because last night he was just too out of his mind to appreciate her soft features, bright eyes, pink lips, the way her hair moves. Her nose and cheeks are sprinkled with freckles - it sort of reminds him of his own.

And then there’s Delilah, with her smooth dark skin, almond shaped eyes, and lashes that seem to go on forever. Her full lips are in a constant pout, and it makes her that much more attractive. Neither one has makeup on, and he’s glad, because they are both absolutely stunning without it.

They’re also both incredibly laid back, and not even in the stereotypical stoner way, because he knows they’re not high right now. But they seem satisfied with their lives, satisfied with everything around them. He thinks a bomb could go off and the both of them would just shrug.

He will start to envy these ladies if he doesn’t stop thinking about how wonderful they are.

Soon Sadie is serving them scrambled eggs with a side of sausage. Dean eats it up, suddenly hit with the visions of the other Cas cooking for them in Chitaqua, and his stomach flips. He hopes he’s okay, he prays that they were successful at closing the portal, before the darker version of himself broke through. Before he tried to kill him.

_Let something good come out of all of this._

“So, how’d you two meet?” Delilah asks them, beaming as she butters her toast.

Cas and Dean look at each other with wide eyes, hoping the other can answer that question without looking completely insane. He can’t tell them that his brother died, so he sold his soul to a crossroads demons, who only gave him a year to live before sicking the hellhounds on him to drag him to hell, where he spent forty years before Castiel - his angel -  pulled him out.

“Dean was in a rough spot in his life and we ran into each other one day, in… a bar, and never separated since,” Cas says, smiling at Dean and the girls. “I guess you can say it was an instant bond.”

Dean wants to laugh, but is impressed at how normal Cas is able to make it all seem. He reaches for his hand under the table and holds it, making them both blush, uncontrollably.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Delilah says, arching her brow. “Sounds like Sadie and me. We met at a Stones concert back in ‘67. We were actually there with dates but somehow managed to gravitate towards each other, and well, here we are.”

They kiss, sweet and chaste and Dean’s over the moon with these two. “Now you’re getting married today,” he says after he swallows a forkful of eggs.

“Yes. Yes we are,” Sadie says, grinning.  “When you know, you just know.”

Again, he's with the red heated cheeks and he sneaks a peek at Cas who is smiling while staring down at his plate.

_Oh I know. I definitely know._

 

* * *

 

Dean and Cas are sitting comfortably in the back of the VW bus as the Delilah drives with Sadie in the passenger seat. They have the back set up like a little den, with a small couch and oversized pillows, even a lamp sits in the corner. Of course a wall of beads separate the front from the back, and again Dean is thinking of Chitaqua.

It smells of strawberries, and that’s when he notices a crate full of them. He’s not usually tempted to eat fruit or berries - like ever, but now he really wants to grab a handful and have Cas feed them to him like last night.

Of course that may end up with them all over each other and this really is not the time or the place for that.

Before they pull out of the driveway, Sadie turns to the boys. “Comfy?”

They nod and soon Delilah is turning onto the road. “So, where are we headed anyway?” Dean asks, hoping it’s not too far since they’d like to get this over with and get the hell back home.

Delilah glances briefly at them through the rearview. “Woodstock,” the girls chorus.

“Uh…” Dean looks at Castiel, who is trying not to laugh. “What?”

“You know, the big music festival? Don’t tell me you guys haven’t heard about it. I mean, unless you were living under a rock…” Sadie says, a wide smile on her face.

“Oh, we have but… this is where you’re getting married?”

Sadie nods. “Mm Hm. Dexter is going to be there, he has a whole tent set up and everything. He’ll have enough grass to last the whole weekend, so if you guys wanna stay…”

“We don't even have tickets,” Dean tells her, feeling extremely conflicted now. While this would be the experience of a lifetime, they still have Cas’ counterpart to check in on, and most of all, they need to get back home.

“Please, no one has tickets,” Delilah says as she reaches for the radio dial. _Put a Little Love in Your Heart_ beginsas the deejay announces it. Dean shakes his head, looking at Castiel, wondering what his angel is thinking right now.

“Oh, I love this song!” Sadie shouts as she turns it up louder, swaying and rocking as she sings along.

Cas leans in. “Dean, we don’t really have a choice. If this is where Dexter is, we have to go.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I know. We just get the bowl and get the hell out of there. I just wish… I wish we knew that they other Cas is okay.”

Castiel takes his hand, pulling him closer. _God, this feeling is like no other feeling in the world_. He loves the warmth Cas offers him. Just a simple touch has him forgetting that there is anything wrong in the world.

“I am pretty sure the portal has been repaired. I think that us being tossed here was the result of that.”

“Well then I’m pissed he didn’t know this could happen.”

“He couldn’t have known, Dean. Portal tears are unpredictable. He knew there was a chance for weird occurrences to take place, but for us to be thrown out of his world and into our own, in another time, would have escaped him.”

This is why Dean hates time travel, hates magic, hates all of it. It’s always fucking unpredictable, always risky. Sure, it was something that had to be done, they had to fix that tear in his dimension, and he's not going to blame _that_ Cas for being clueless as to what could happen to him and his own Cas, but it doesn't mean he can’t be pissed.

But if Castiel is right, and those guys are okay there, then his main focus now is Sam. He’s probably freaking the fuck out by now, and he needs to figure out a way to reach him. He’s not sure if Cas can pull off the dream walking again, since his powers have faded a fuckton since Chitaqua, so there really is no other option than to get that bowl and get home, no matter how tempting it would be to stay for the weekend and witness the most legendary rock festival ever.

Earlier, Sadie mentioned that the drive would be just under two hours and if they needed to make a stop, to just let them know. They hadn’t planned on meeting Dexter until late afternoon, before the first act goes on stage, but they insisted on getting there early because of how crowded it's going to be. Not only having to park a mile away from the venue site, they would have to search for Dexter once inside, unsure where he ended up setting up his tent, since there will be countless others with the same idea.

Ah, the time before cellphones.

Now, he's imaging all of them trying to sift through the hundreds of thousands of people there, and he’s wondering if they will even find this guy by the end of the day. From what he remembers from the documentaries and photos, that it was a madhouse. People, bodies everywhere and getting from point A to B was almost impossible.

This was the reason why many of them ended up just pitching a tent or laying down a blanket at the first place they found, because really, who the hell wants to walk around for hours just to find your own spot in an outdoor concert. As long as you can hear the music, maybe see the stage a little, people were satisfied.

He also remembers hearing about those camping out on the sidelines, just outside the venue. Rows and rows of cars and people all just hanging out, vibing to the music and the energy, and he’s actually going to be seeing this first hand.

“Richie goes on at five, from what I was told, and I’m thinking now, since we have to sneak you guys in, that we should wait for him start, so people will be more distracted with him, than what’s going on at the fences,” Delilah tells them. “Then we will head straight to Dexter.”

“So you've met him?” Castiel asks, leaning his body forward, towards the front seat.

“Yeah, once, when he agreed to do our wedding, right after he sold us some opium.”

Cas shakes his head at Dean. “So, he’s big on the drug scene?”

Sadie and Delilah laugh. “Yeah, but who isn’t nowadays? Except you two, I can tell you guys don’t get spaced out, often.”

“Spaced out?” Cas asks.

“Get high,” Sadie informs him.

“No, we d-don’t. It’s not very wise in our line of work,” Cas stumbles on his words and he shoots Dean a nervous look.

_Oh Cas, why did you have to say that?_

“Oh, what do you guys do?”

_Of course._

“We’re hunters,” he says, casually and Dean wants to put his hand over his angel’s mouth now to shut him up. These girls are far from the supernatural life and there is no reason to make them think they're driving around with two lunatics.

“Well, that’s not nice. Poor defenseless animals…” Delilah laments.

Dean could correct Cas, he could just say they hunt bad guys, but enough has been said already so he keeps his mouth shut and just lets the girls assume they go out in the woods every weekend to hunt Bambi, or whatever. He thinks if they knew the truth, they’d be far more scared of them.

After a while, Dean finally spots the the sign for Woodstock. There are handmaid signs as well, all adorned with peace signs, daisies, and loopy arrows eventually pointing in the right direction. His stomach fills with butterflies, knowing how close they are now and he’s about to see all the people heading to where they are.

Delilah gets off the exit and makes a turn, and that’s when he sees it all - everything he has ever imagined. There are more buses than he pictured though and he can’t believe how many people are already here, some even on foot already, as they drive slowly down the narrow street.

They’re in full on farm country, nothing around for miles but fields, horses, cows, men on tractors. He’s even seen a few groups on such tractors, heading towards the concert, and it makes him chuckle.

When in doubt, ride a John Deere.

“Guys, we’re gonna park her here and walk the rest of the way. I’m afraid the deeper we get, the harder it will be to leave.”

They find a small dirt patch to park and they head outside, where the air is already humid, the late afternoon sun beaming down on them. Sadie pulls out a large jug of water and cradles it like a baby, winking at the boys.

“I came prepared. Dexter will have the food and other stuff to drink, like beer and iced tea.”

He smiles at her, realizing that water bottles weren’t really the thing back in the sixties, and she hands him the jug to take a swig. It’s still nice and cold from being in the cooler that Delilah is now carrying. He offers it to Cas, who gulps some down, wiping his mouth afterwards.

“Thanks,” he says, smiling.

Dean takes Cas’ hand and they share a smile that gives Dean goosebumps. He notices Delilah looking at them, grinning, and so she takes hold of Sadie's hand, copying them. They walk ahead, almost skipping, their dresses flowing in the hot summer wind, and he can’t help but feel like this is all a dream.

The people here, some of whom are starting to walk alongside them, are genuinely happy. They’re singing, dancing, offering food and drink to anyone that needs it. He saw a few with tambourines, skipping along the road, handing flowers to people. There are buses still parked with people inside, hanging out of the windows, waving and cheering them on.

He’s seeing families - actual families too, walking on this stretch of road. Pregnant women, mothers and fathers with their children. It’s all pretty damn amazing. This is really a place for every walk of life to come together, regardless of race, religious or political preferences. No matter if you’re gay, straight, from India, or the Bronx, people are united.

It’s pretty fucking cool, and he wonders if this could even happen _now,_ what with all the division between people, the lack of tolerance and acceptance of others' views, the judgemental ways people label each other, sticking them in categories so they make more sense to them.

He’s sure the same thing happened in this time as well, but not today, not now. Today is about people celebrating togetherness and vocalizing how much peace is needed right now. War isn’t the answer, and Dean is humbled by it.

He’s a fighter, one who starts wars in the demon world. But he’s also a lover who refuses to allow any more people to get hurt because if his decisions and he hopes that when they do get back to their time, they stop the Darkness and get back on track at doing what is important, and that is saving people, hunting things, the family business.

There’s music playing out of every vehicle, everything from Nilsson’s _Everybody’s Talkin_ to Sly and the Family Stone’s _Everyday People_ and he winks at Cas, tugging his shirt. Dean even spots a group a nuns leaving a church bus, waving and smiling at all the passersby.

“Isn’t this incredible?” Sadie says as she turns around, spinning. “What a perfect place for a wedding!”

They walk farther until Dean can see tents in the distance, people camping out, so he knows they’re close. He can’t believe that the actual concert doesn't even start for another couple of hours but it’s so crowded already, he’s pretty sure people will be able to sneak in, as the girls said. No one is even checking.

He does see a wire fence now, which he assumes is to keep people from doing just that, but already folks are hopping it and he notices an area where the fence has been cut and people are sneaking in that way. He’s chuckling at the sight. _What a cluster fuck, but man, what a cool cluster fuck._

“Come on,” Delilah shouts as her and Sadie start skipping ahead.

They follow them to a bus that’s painted in rainbows and peace signs. He checks out the people hanging around it, and they’re all grinning and singing, some with body art, women with flowers braided in their hair, men - some shirtless - smoking pipes and cigarettes.

The Band’s _The Weight_ is playing, Dean’s smiling at how much he loves this song, as he watches the girls approach a lean, dark skinned man who’s sitting on the steps of the bus with a banjo. He’s smiling at them and then glances over at Cas and Dean, beckoning for them to come over.

Dean’s wondering if this is the actual Dexter Feelgood, with his American flag bandanna tied around his head, long wooden beads in white and brown hanging around his neck, eyes red, bloodshot but seem to be in a permanent smile.

He gets ready to talk ‘hunter’ talk with him but when he introduces himself as Robbie, he just offers his hand and shakes it. _Okay not Dexter._ “I’m Dean, this is Cas.”

“Well, hello Dean and Cas. Welcome to the Love Bus. You boys need some grass?”

Dean shakes his head. “No we’re good, uh--”

“They’re actually here to see Dexter,” Sadie interrupts.

Robbie’s eyes widen and he strokes his beard while studying them. “Hm, many people are here to see Dexter, man. That guy is one popular cat.”

“So we’ve heard.”

Delilah whispers something in Robbie’s ear, making him rise and move out of the way so she could step inside the bus, pulling Sadie with her. Sadie turns to Dean and Cas and waves, “Come.”

He’s not sure what’s going on inside the actual bus, but they follow inside anyway and he takes a look around. There are two women in the back, painting each other’s faces with small peace signs, daisies and there’s another woman, calling out for the girls to take their seat.

Shirts with colorful peace signs, beaded necklaces, and dream catchers are hanging on the back door of the bus, and he spots some boxes filled with art supplies.

Sadie sits down first, and the woman flips her long grey braid out of the way and reaches in between her denim clad legs for her brush, dips it into the paint and brings it to Sadie’s cheek.

“We’re getting our faces painted. You?” Sadie says, trying not to turn her face while she talks.

Dean shakes his head, looking at Cas. “Nah, we’re--”

“Sure, you can do mine. Maybe a flower on my cheek,” Cas says and Dean almost cracks up at him. “What?” he asks Dean.

“Nothing, Cas. Nothing.” He wraps his arm around him. “This I gotta see.”

They spend the next few hours hanging out in this bus, listening to music, Dean staring at the white and yellow flower painted on his angel’s face. It’s cute. Cas is adjusting to this time really well: eating those brownies like they were no big thing, to now hanging out with a bunch of hippies on some Love Bus and getting his face painted.

Oh yeah, and at Woodstock, no less.

“Why don’t you do your face too, Dean?” Cas says, walking back over to him.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Dean chuckles.

Cas sits down next to him, after talking to this Robbie guy, who had Cas enthralled for the last hour. He doesn’t bother asking what they were talking about, but Dean has to remember that this is all new for Castiel too. He wasn’t down here during this time, he didn’t get to witness the sixties.

Taking Dean’s hand, he drops his head on his shoulder and just this simple act brings the butterflies back. “You having fun?”

He can feel his angel’s head move in a nod against his shoulder. “Yes. These people are so amazing. So full of hope. This is a very interesting time in history.”

“Yeah.” Dean rests his head against Cas’, thinking about this period of American history. It _is_ an important time. Very important. The sixties changed the way the country viewed war, politics, everything. This paved the way for what’s going on now. People with voices, people being heard, even if it seems the opposite.

He glances up at Sadie and Delilah as they kiss in a shared seat, and he just watches them; not in a perverted way, but he’s drawn to how they touch one another, how their lips brush against each other’s skin. The way Sadie runs her hands through Delilah’s wild hair. They’re not worrying about people seeing them, judging them. They’re as normal as any other couple.

Pulling Cas closer, he plants a kiss on the top of his head. He doesn’t know why he’s been so worried about what this looks like - what people would think if they saw Dean Winchester, the beer drinking, porn watching, flannel wearing, ladies man, be affectionate with the very _male_ angel he’s in love with.

He sees Castiel as _it -_ his one and only, and there was never a reason for Dean to have been scared of being this open and free with him, no matter what he felt society would think or do. Sure there are still close minded, bigoted people in their world - in their time, but they don’t matter. They never mattered.

Plus, Dean’s more concerned with the majority of people finding out what they really do for a living, than who he likes to kiss in public.

“Guys, the concert started, now would be a good time to sneak in,” Delilah announces, bringing Dean back down to earth.

They leave the bus, bidding Robbie and the others goodbye, and start heading to the fence. He is getting way too excited for this, as he’s about to actually be inside Woodstock, the real Woodstock, and hear real music, the _actual_ bands that played. His stomach is a ball of nerves as he grabs Cas’ hand.

“Okay, you guys will sneak in here,” Sadie says. She points to an area inside. “Meet us at that blue tent there, you see it?”

Dean leans in, trying to make it out. There are so many people, bodies everywhere. “I think so. Is that where Dexter is?”

She shakes her head. “No, he’ll be in a red tent, but I can’t see it from here. We’ll have to search.” Sadie grabs Delilah’s hand. “You guys will be okay?”

“Yeah, we’ll find you at the blue tent,” Castiel says.

This place is a mad house already and when he hears Richie Haven’s music, a sudden thrill overcomes him. They watch the girls leave, Sadie giving one more wave and smile as they enter through the front. Dean and Cas slip through the tear in the fence and for a moment, they just stand there, taking it all in.

Ahead of them is the largest crowd of people Dean has ever seen. It just looks like a sea of colors, where bodies seem to be melting into each other, a blanket of blues, reds, and yellows. There are some tents up already, and he tries to keep his eyes locked on the blue one, where they’re supposed to meet the girls.

The outer part - where they are currently, isn’t as congested but the route to their destination, well, let’s just say it won’t be very easy to move through it. Dean grabs Cas’ hand as they head into the thick of it, moving past people who are dancing, singing, women sitting on shoulders, people playing flutes and twirling around with ribbons.

He’s seeing strange hats, feathered crowns, there’s a guy dressed like Uncle Sam, and he’s playing a ukelele - singing about corruption and war. There are already topless women, swaying their bodies to the music, and Dean grins, noticing Castiel eyeing them as well, a look of shock on his face.

It’s overwhelming, yeah, and he’s starting to worry now that he actually won't find the girls again, and that means Dexter as well.

And that means they’re stuck.

“Dean! Cas!” a voice calls out. Dean sees Delilah waving in the distance and he breathes a sigh of relief.

They reach the blue tent and before wasting any time, they are in search of Dexter’s red one. But there is just too much to look at, so many interesting people doing _really interesting_ things. Interpretive dancing, people setting up small booths to sell their crafts, some even selling beer. It’s hard to focus on the task at hand, so Cas starts tugging on him harder, to get his attention.

They walk through more of the crowd and they finally come upon a bright red tent, decorated with multi colored scarves, breads, and incense burning around it - scented sticks stuck in the ground. He hears a sitar playing inside and bends over to take a peek, but Delilah moves in front of him, arms outstretched.

“Let me tell him you guys are here, first.”

After a few minutes of Dean and Cas trying to be patient, he sees her head poke out. “He said he wasn’t expecting anyone else today.”

“Yeah, we kinda didn’t really make plans with him, we just have to see him.”

There’s a shuffling noise from inside the tent and Dean gets a quick glance at someone moving around. Delilah steps out waves her arm, gesturing for Dean and Cas to head in. They bend forward and step inside and Dean almost loses his shit.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean choruses with Dexter Feelgood, otherwise known as Metatron.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Of all the places…” Metatron says, smiling like a maniac, which he most definitely is.

Cas and Dean move in, Dean still in utter disbelief that he’s looking at that fucked up scribe right in the damn face. “Why are you here?”

Metatron sits down on a pillow and holds his hands up, waving them across the pillows opposite him. “Sit. We have a lot to discuss.”

“No,” Dean says, his blood boiling, and he’s so close to punching this asshole in the throat. Every single run-in he’s ever had with Metatron comes crashing back into his mind, his anger increases to the point that he can’t even see straight.

“Listen, I’m sure you both have a lot of questions--”

“We do,” Castiel says, moving to stand in front of the former angel. “Answer Dean’s first. Why are you here?”

Metatron sighs while rolling his eyes - a typical thing he does, as if he can’t be bothered with anyone else on the face on the planet. “It’s the sixties! I never got to experience it, and…” He glances at Castiel and smiles. “Love the face paint, by the way. Isn’t it spectacular?” he says while rubbing his hands together, his face too bright for the low down imp that he really is.

“So you just, what... poofed here?”

“Oh no.” Metatron shakes his head. “I’m not an angel anymore.” He turns back to Cas. “Isn’t that right, Castiel?”

Dean looks at Cas, as his angel sighs. “So you did a time travel spell. Why?”

“I told you,” he says, enthusiastically. “I’ve always wanted to experience the summer of love, I read about it in so many stories--”

“And…”

“And what? I’m Heaven’s most wanted. I needed to lay low, get off the radar.”

“As an opium induced hippy?” Dean teases.

Another eye roll and Metatron leans back on an elbow, flashing a sly smile. Dean figures this is going nowhere fast, so now that they have _Dexter Feelgood_ where they want him (and he just so happens to be Metatron), there is one question Dean has to ask, one question that’s been burning inside of him.

“What did you do with Cas’ grace?”

“What?” Metatron looks genuinely confused, looking back and forth between the men. “I have no idea what you’re talking about? He got it back, he--”

“My grace is weakened. Weakening every day actually. My wings, broken. Something happened to it, and I need to know what. Why.” Castiel leans in, glaring hard at the former scribe.

“Gee, I have no idea. I just used that bit for the spell, but… wait,” he reaches over for a tote bag, and Dean and Cas automatically get into defensive mode, Dean reaching for the blade that he has in his own bag.

Metatron eyes them, shaking his head, “Relax, I’m just trying to find this text I wrote - out of memory of course, because originally, I wrote it eons ago, like before creation, but I tell ya, my memory isn’t what it used to be, I used to be able to--”

“Cut to the chase, Metatron,” Dean says, forcefully.

“Okay, okay. Wow. You guys are totally ruining my buzz, you know,” he whines.

“Yeah, sorry, _Dexter Feelgood_.” Dean mocks.

“Ah, here we are,” Metatron holds up a notebook and opens it, scanning the pages. “For angels will eventually disconnect from Heaven, thus losing grace while love is replaced in their hearts.”

Dean and Cas share a look, both shrugging. “And?”

Metatron rests the book in his lap, looking at them sympathetically, eyebrows arched, as if he gives a fuck. “The more an angel falls in love with humans, the more that angel… _becomes_ human.”

Dean looks at Cas, who is staring wide eyed at Metatron. This is obviously news to him, as his angel seems like he’s about to have a panic attack. All the color is fading from his cheeks, and that’s when Dean reaches over to grab his hand.

Metatron watches the sudden intimacy between them and throws his head back, chuckling. “Ohh, so it’s _Dean._ Well, of course, it’s Dean, I mean, who else would it be?”

“Cas, I--” Suddenly a wave of guilt comes over him. It’s _his_ fault Cas is losing his mojo? What is he going to think about this? Will he want to end things so he can regain his powers? Will he be okay with eventually being drained… becoming more human?

“Dean, it’s okay,” Cas says, smiling gently for him. He turns his attention back to Metatron. “I’m fine with this. I am happy to know why, now. I’m glad there is nothing really wrong with me, so we can move on from this conversation.”

“But, Cas--”

“No, it’s fine, Dean.” Cas inhales, a certain calm taking over his face. “Metatron, we need to get back to our time. Our trip here was accidental. We know you have an urn, well Dexter Feelgood has an urn, and we need it to get home.”

“Oh, _that_ urn…” Metatron sits up straighter. “I actually don’t have it.”

Dean and Cas say, together, “What?”

“Yeah, I mean, I _had_ it, up until a few hours ago, but then I traded it for this,” he reaches into his tote bag and pulls out a large ziplock of marijuana. He smiles, sheepishly at them.

“Please tell me you remember who you gave it to.” Dean narrows his gaze, and again, he wants to punch him.

Metatron rises, putting the boys on high alert, but he holds his hands up, surrendering. “I do. Her name is Stella and she’s running the Peace Beads tent on the other side of the field. You can't miss it, it’s rainbow colored and she has sandalwood incense burning.

They turn to leave, Dean pointing at Metaton. “We know where you are, and I swear to God, if she doesn’t have what we need, you’re getting your ass out there to help us look for it.”

“Fine. Fine. But she’ll have it. Trust me.”

They hurry out, but Dean is stopped by a tug on his shirt. “Wait, aren’t you two staying for the wedding?” Sadie asks, pouting.

“Sure, uh, when will it be? We just gotta go grab something…”

“It’s in an hour, so hurry back!”

Dean looks around, and then nods at her, soon grabbing Cas’ hand and trekking through the crowds of people. Castiel stops in his tracks a few minutes later and Dean turns to him, furrowing his brow.

“You okay?”

Cas nods, looking down and then around. “Yes, I’m fine.” He starts to walk, pulling Dean. “Come on, let’s find this Stella.”

“Wait, Cas,” Dean yanks Cas closer to him. “Do you wanna maybe talk about what Metatron said, about you… ya know, becoming human and all?”

“No. Not now. Let’s just get what we came for.”

He doesn't push Cas, so the two continue through the field, bumping into too many sweaty bodies, people not even caring where they are, as long as they can dance to the music. Dean looks towards the stage, feeling a certain sense of awe. Richie Haven’s actually playing _From the Prison_ , right there - live, and Dean feels his skin tingle.

After they have the bowl, see the wedding, he knows they have to leave but what he’d give to be able to stay for the whole weekend here. See all the bands, really get into it all, live the experience of a lifetime, with love of his lifetime. That would be amazing.


	17. Chapter 17

“Why does this place have to be so damn big and crowded?” Dean whines, as they search for Stella and her tent. He’s beginning to get grumpy, and not just from having to walk around this vast field of bodies, but seeing Metatron left a bad taste in his mouth. Every time that asshat has been involved in their lives, something goes to shit, and part of him is expecting to be royally fucked over this time as well. 

And Cas hasn’t said anything about his grace, making Dean that much more agitated. This is a big deal - a big fucking deal to be losing the one power that makes him an angel, all because of Dean. Because he fell in love with him.

He’s only confirming that being with Dean is, in fact, a curse.

“Stop,” Castiel says, as he stands in place.

Dean turns to him, waiting for Cas to say something more. Did he spot the tent? Does he have more information about the portals? But Cas glares at him hard, frowning. “It’s not your fault.”

Dean bites his bottom lip, faking a smile. “Okay, spill it, Cas. You _can_ read my mind.”

He’s suddenly panicking, wondering how many times Cas has heard him, all these years of Dean thinking about him, in many other ways than just brotherly. If Cas heard that all, Dean has been walking around assuming he was being so slick in hiding his feelings, meanwhile, his angel knew all along.

And if he knew all along, why did he act so surprised when Dean did finally give into them, or why didn’t he ever say anything, or even make his move? Castiel admitted being in love with him since day fucking one, so what gives?

“No, I can’t read your mind, Dean. Really, I can - I can sense what you’re thinking. It’s because…” He looks down, shyly but Dean leans in, until he looks back up at him.

 _Okay, that’s better, but still..._ “Because what?”

“Our bond. I’m still an angel, Dean, even if my grace is fading, and because of our connection, I can sometimes… hear you.”

“Like when I pray?”

“No. I mean, yes, sort of, but not so much as hearing words, as it's just flashes of things, not full sentences.”

Dean sighs, crossing his arms, suddenly feeling violated, which is stupid, he knows. This is Cas, and there isn’t anyone else in the world he would feel more comfortable with knowing what’s going on his head than him. Regardless, he feels exposed. Naked.

“Okay whatever. So you know, then, that I am aware this _is_ all my fault - why you’re losing your grace, why--”

“I just said it wasn’t,” he says, sternly.

This is Cas on the verge of being angry, and Dean’s seen this side of him way too often. He’s aware he has a habit of pissing people off, but as stubborn as Dean is, so is his angel, and just knowing that makes him want to pull him into a hug and kiss him.

But instead, he stands up straight, sticking to his self loathing, ‘cause that's what he is good at. “But if it wasn’t for me, you’d be fine.”

“I’d be a hammer for Heaven. A soldier taking orders, blindly. But worst of all, I wouldn’t know what it feels like to fall in love with Dean Winchester, and believe me, Dean, this is no curse.”

He feels his face heat up. He’d be able to say some witty comeback, maybe crack a joke about his long line of disappointing relationships, but his throat is closing, his mouth dry, all because hearing Cas say he loves him still makes him an emotional mess.

“Cas, I--”

“Let’s just go get that bowl and go home. _This,_ we can do.” Castiel brushes against him, and continues walking through the field, Dean following him, silently.

He didn’t mean to piss him off -  these were his thoughts that Cas just so happened to have picked up on, and he probably wouldn’t have said them aloud. Or maybe he would have, but now he has to control what goes on in his brain, for fear that Cas will pick it all up.

And this just got really complicated.

“Wait, Cas,” Dean calls out, grabbing his arm. Cas turns around, rolling his eyes and it gives Dean a sick feeling in his gut.

“Dean, we don’t have time,” he says and turns around again, walking away. Dean gives up at this point, realizing there is nothing he can do now. He will talk to him about this, about everything, when Cas is ready to. It’s just bugging the hell out of him that there's this tension now, for no goddamned reason.

He watches his angel and the determined way he walks, a man on a mission. The way he lifts his head above the crowd to get a better view. 

Cas isn't helpless, powerless or not. He's like, a gazillion years old and sure, just because he's wet behind the ears when it comes to simple human things, he's no babe in the woods. He's a fearless warrior. A person who has been in wars, actual wars, and has fought with everything he's had. Dean has to remind himself this, often, because when it comes to those he loves, he tends to take on the protective role, seeing them as someone he needs to wrap up and hide away in a safe place, and that is just fucking ridiculous.

If this grace thing bothers Cas, if it makes him weary, then he'd talk to Dean about it. He's sure of that. So for now, he needs to stop looking at Cas like he can't handle anything, and give him the wheel to his own life. 

As if by some miracle, after ten more minutes of trekking through this crowded field, they spot a rainbow colored tent. “Yahtzee!” Dean calls out, pointing. Cas looks at him and follows the direction of his finger and he can actually see Cas’ shoulders ease.

Inside the tent is an older woman, wearing a sundress and large straw hat that's atop her long black and grey hair, braided on the side. She looks up at them as they walk in and smiles, her face warm and inviting; eyes, a brilliant blue like Cas’.

“Well, hello gentlemen.”

Dean smiles back at her, looking around at the bins of beaded jewelry, tapestries hanging on the sides of the tent, big containers of loose beads and rope. He doesn’t see any bowls, so he inhales, shakily, worried that this will be another let down.

“Stella, right?”

She nods. He continues, “We’re friends of Meta-- _Dexter’s_ and he said that he gave you a certain bowl…”

Stella tilts her head, eyeing him curiously. “Gave? No, we traded.” She bends down to empty out a bag full of beads into a large plastic bin. “It’s a, uh, rare piece.”

“Yeah, and we kinda need it,” Dean says, wincing.

She looks up at him, furrowing her brow. “Why?”

“Long story,” he says, smiling nervously at her. He wonders why she wanted this bowl to begin with. You have to be someone in the know, someone who's familiar with hoodoo to even understand what that bowl is used for.

“You boys want to time travel?”

 _Okay, so she knows._ “Yes,” Cas answers for him.

“To leave home or go back to it?”

Dean exhales the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in. “Back home.”

“Well, isn’t this exciting,” she grins, widely at them as she heads to the back of the tent. He watches her pull out a suitcase and drop it onto the floor and then she gets down on her knees, opening it. “I’ve never actually met anyone who's time traveled before. I knew it was possible, but very rarely do people actually pull it off.”

Dean isn’t sure what happens next. Will she just willingly give them the bowl? Will she want payment for it? She obviously felt that it was important enough for a large Ziploc bag of weed, which Dean is assuming a good going rate - he has no idea.

Stella stands, holding something wrapped in a towel. “I got a good deal for this. When Dexter came to me for grass, he first offered me all sorts of useless items, but when I saw this urn, I begged him for it.”

Her eyes land on Dean and she’s squinting, almost like she’s trying to get a really good look at him, studying him. Her face is soft, though, and for a second, she reminds him of his mother. He wonders if she has kids, and if so, then they’re really lucky. He can picture her cooking them warm meals, reading to them in bed, wrapping them into her warm embrace.

He’s suddenly hit with a pain in his chest. While he was lucky enough to have had that as a child, Sam never did, and he’s never missed his brother more so than now. He’s also cursing at himself for letting his mind wander like this, and so he clears his throat, bringing his mind back down to business.

“Yeah, uh, we don’t really have anything to trade, we literally got blown here yesterday and--”

She holds up her hand, a gesture to silence him. “I’m not giving you this bowl. You’re borrowing it.”

“So you’re going to help us with the spell?” he asks her.

“No, I am awful with magic. I got this urn for my sister - she's the witch in the family, but alas, she's in California at the moment. You can tell Dexter to bring it back to me, after you boys find your way home. Okay?” She hands it to them, and Dean reaches out to take it. “I don’t know why I trust you. I just do.”

They share a smile. “Thank you.”

Dean and Cas turn to leave as Stella calls out for them. “Wait!” They stop and face her. “What year are you from?”

“2015.”

Her chest heaves as she exhales deeply. “Well, at least I know the world isn’t ending.”

“No ma’am. Not yet.”

They hurry back to Metatron’s tent, ready to tell him the plan, and attend Sadie and Delilah’s wedding, of course. They are already setting it up, people are hanging flowers over a wire that extends from one tent to another. Folks are lighting candles, and rolling out blankets. There’s a pause in the music from the stage, and Dean assumes that is because they are switching out bands now.

Dean peers inside that other tent next to them and sees Sadie, holding a bouquet of flowers. When she spots Dean she smiles and waves excitedly. He waves back at her and takes Cas’ hand, leading them to an open spot on a blanket, which he assumes was laid out for guests.

They sit, closely as others join them and soon, a young girl - probably about ten years old - approaches with a violin. She starts, and Dean is amazed how well she plays. He has no idea what song it is, but it’s fitting, soothing, and kind of romantic.

“Pachelbel's _Canon,_ ” Cas tells him.

Cas laces his fingers with Dean’s as they watch the ceremony begin. Sadie strolls out, looking more radiant now than she did before, and she is joined by Delilah, who is grinning so widely, her entire face is glowing. They are beautiful, together, and he does wish them a long and happy life. He can’t help but think of Cas when he looks at them.

Two people who had no idea where they were headed, ending up together, fitting like two puzzle pieces. It's how he and Cas are, except with _their_ life, comes pain, blood, and fear. These woman are lucky. They will be able to grow old together, live a beautiful life.

A sadness comes over him thinking about his own life, and how short it will most likely be. He doubts he will even see the age of fifty. Life of a hunter is a short life, as Joe Tanner said. The fact he’s lived as long as he had is by pure luck… and a certain angel’s intervention.

Dean’s heart skips a beat when Cas rests his head on his shoulder, squeezing his hand. And this _certain angel_ is all Dean wants. If he only has ten odd years left, then he wants each day to be with Castiel. Hunting together, arguing, laughing, making love.

“Loving you is worth it all, Dean.”

Dean swallows, and he’s finding it hard to breathe. When Cas says things like this, Dean feels like he's living someone else's life. A person who is so damn happy, so damn lucky to be able to have this amazing angel by his side. Who gets to have this? Not Dean. Not from his experience.

Yet here he is. Here _they_ are. Dean can't control his fluttering heart.

He looks back out at the women, who are now standing in front of Metatron as he says his thing about marriage, joining of souls, and all that. _Man, if they only knew what a weasel this guy really is._ And he talks about commitment, support, for better or for worse and Dean sighs.

“Even your grace?”

Castiel lifts his head to make eye contact with Dean. He nods. “Yes.” And then he rests his head back down on his shoulder.  Dean can feel the tears welling in his eyes now, and so much of him wants to tell Metatron to just marry them too. He’s grinning now, imagining the shocked look on Cas’ face if Dean actually did that.

He hasn’t even told his angel that he loves him, though.

Maybe it’s the way the sky looks tonight, or the feel of the air; all hot and humid against his skin. Or it could be the energy of this place; the love, hope, happiness around them. It could be the fact that Delilah and Sadie are getting married, exchanging words of love and promise. 

But Dean feels light headed and he turns his body slightly, causing Cas to lift his head. Cradling his face in his hands, Dean kisses him, tenderly. It’s sending shock waves through him, and he’s utterly amazed at how his angel does this to him. Every time.

They pull apart and Cas’ forehead wrinkles, tilting his head. “What was that for?”

“I don’t care if you can read my mind, or whatever. I don’t care that it seems we always have a price we gotta pay. All I care about right now, Cas, is that you’re here with me.”

He smiles, leaning in to kiss Dean. “I can’t read your mind, Dean.”

Dean chuckles. “Okay, not the point. Point is, I--” Dean swallows that pesky nervous lump in his throat, and he wishes there was some way his heart would calm the hell down. “Point is, I love you.”

Castiel’s eyes widen, the blue welling with tears. He's looking at him intensely, but not in disbelief, not in shock, but almost a look of relief. His eyes are saying a thousand words and Dean wishes he could stare into them forever and know each one.

Dean moves in to kiss him, yet again, and then rests his forehead on his. He can’t believe he said it - he _actually_ said it, and it was the most natural thing in the world for him. These words were meant for Cas’ ears and he’s never felt so sure of this feeling until now.

He continues, “I’ve always loved you and I always _will_ love you and I’m sorry that I never said it, but--”

His words are interrupted with an even hungrier kiss, as Cas grabs hold of him, pulling him in closer. It had to be said, Castiel needed to be told, and although he’s one hundred percent sure his angel already knew, there’s something about saying it that makes it so much more profound.

The way his angel is reacting is making Dean so damn happy.

Their kiss is interrupted by people clapping and cheering, and they turn their heads to see Delilah and Sadie kissing, before Sadie throws her bouquet into the crowd. Hands reach up for it in a desperate frenzy and Dean has never really understood this tradition before, why women, mostly, will go crazy, as if there is some cosmic force telling them who will get married next.

But then the bouquet falls right in Castiel’s lap and Dean starts to crack up, eyeing the disappointed looks on the other women’s faces. Cas hold it up, eyeing it curiously, and turns to Dean, his face still full of confusion.

“Well, look at that,” Dean teases. “The fates are in your favor, Cas. I just wonder who the lucky bride or groom is gonna be.”

“Shut up, Dean,” Cas sneers, with a smile.

“So, you guys got it, I see,” Metatron says, his eyes focused on the wrapped urn in Dean’s lap.

And then there's the task at hand.

“You have to give this back to Stella when we’re done, you understand?” Dean says, with a raised brow.

“Yeah, yeah. You guys ready to go?”

Cas and Dean turn to each other and he can tell even Cas doesn’t want to leave. They're having a great time, and despite the fact that they did _not_ ask for this, it feels like a mini vacation. They haven’t had to fight off demons, vampires, and they’ve been able to just bask in each other’s warmth.

But reality of it all is that they do have to go back home. There is too much at stake, and staying here would be irresponsible, to say the least. He needs to get back to Sammy, let him know he’s okay.

“Yes,” Dean says, seeing Cas nod in agreement.

“Then let’s get this party started,” Metatron says, rubbing his hands together, flashing a mischievous smile that Dean wishes he could punch right off of his face.

Before they do, 'get this party started', Dean wants to say goodbye to Sadie and Delilah. They’ve been a really important part of this journey, and he feels like he owes them a great deal. Rising to his feet, he and Cas head over to them, where they’re surrounded by friends. Sadie sees them first and runs to meet them, hugging Dean and then Cas.

“Thanks for being here,” she says, wiping the happy tears from her eyes.

“The ceremony was beautiful. Perfect,” Cas tells her, smiling warmly.

Delilah joins them and throws her arm around her new bride. “So, where are you two headed, I heard Dexter ask you if you’re ready to go.”

He shares a look with Cas and says, “We have to leave. Go back home. But I wanted to thank you both for taking us in and bringing us here. Without you, we would never have found Dexter,” Dean tells them.

Sadie quirks a brow. “So, what did good ole Dexter do for you guys, anyway?”

“He has the key we need… to our uh, home.”

They chorus, “Ahh.”

“Anyway, thanks again,” Dean says.

Delilah hold up a finger, her eyes wide. “Wait, hold on.” She runs off to the tent and comes out with a piece of paper and a pen. She writes something down on it and hands it to Dean. Looking at it, it has her and Sadie’s name with the last name: Conner, and a phone number.

“Look us up sometime, you know, next time you both are in New York.”

Dean smiles at her and nods. It’s bittersweet that he won’t be seeing them again. That this time travel was a fluke and the chance at running into them in the future would be near impossible. Plus, it would also be a little weird seeing as they’d be a lot older and Cas and Dean would still look exactly the same.

After another round of hugs, Dean and Cas head to Metatron’s tent where he’s sitting crossed-legged on a pillow, incense burning around him, and a small battery powered radio playing The Beatles. Dean takes a seat, giving him his best annoyed glare.

“I haven’t forgotten what you did, Metatron.”

The scribe opens his eyes and looks up at him. “I’m only helping you so you can get out of here. I don’t want you and… Asstiel to keep ruining my buzz, here.” He looks up at Cas who is still standing at the entrance of the tent. “Hey,  can you tell them not to disturb us and close that flap?”

After Cas does what he asks, he sits down and takes Dean’s hand. “We know where you are now, Metatron. You’re human, so I won’t bother killing you, but I want you to know that if we see your face again, well, it won’t be as pleasant.”

Dean smirks, loving this side of Casj his bad ass - take no shit angel.

“Yea, let’s cut the pleasantries and move this along, shall we?” Metatron says, rolling his eyes.

Reaching over for his duffel, Dean brings it into his lap and opens it, taking out the ingredients. Metatron watches, wide eyed, and maybe he was even drooling, he can’t tell. It’s also pretty obvious that the former angel is high as a kite.

“Easy find?” He asks Dean as he hands the items over to him.

“Yeah, kinda.”

Of course he’s not going to say who he got the ingredients from. The last thing this poor woman needs is another run in with the famous Dexter Feelgood. Dean _could_ tell him that they got it from the same place he acquired certain items to help him _get it up_ , but Dean refrains, biting his inner cheek to keep from laughing.

“So this should bring you back to your time and to Sam, I presume, since he’s your blood kin, I mean, the only one alive, right?”

Dean rolls his eyes and nods. Metatron continues, “Okay, here goes.”

He places the urn in between them on the floor and starts to add the ingredients one by one. He looks up at Dean, side smiling. “The last one: your blood.”

Without hesitation, Dean holds out his hand and watches intently as Metatron grabs a blade. Cas is suddenly grabbing Dean’s wrist, and pulling it back. “Wait,” he says, before rummaging through their duffel. He pulls out their blade and turns to Metatron. “I’ll cut him.”

“I need both your blood.”

Castiel nods and once Dean gives him the okay, he slices his palm, and Dean winces, never really prepared for it, despite how many times he’s had to do this. Cas repeats the same act on his hand and once the blood begins to trickle out, he laces his fingers with Dean’s.

“Oh, how romantic,” the scribe teases.

“Just get on with it,” Dean snaps.

Metatron grunts as he rises, making his way to the side of the tent. “You morons need to draw the sigil, you know that right? Well, do it here.”

Cas and Dean head over to where he is, and it’s Cas who dips his fingers into the bowl. He begins to draw the sigil as he recites the spell that is written down on the piece of paper Metatron had with the urn. It’s a simple one, and as he chants it aloud, he grabs Dean’s hand pulling him closer to him.

Once the sigil is done, it begins to glow, and almost appear as if it’s burning into the tent material. He and Cas look at each other and the next thing he knows, they're being enveloped by a bright light and he feels as if his body is being pushed. He can still feel Cas’ hand in his and so he squeezes it and closes his eyes to the bright light surrounding them.

 

* * *

 

His back aches, and he really did feel as if some strong force was pushing him, like through a narrow door or opening. He opens his eyes, his vision a little blurred but he can distinctly feel something tickling his cheek. When he lifts his head, he notices that he’s lying in grass, and it’s moist, full of dew.

Sitting up, he scrubs his face, hoping his eyes will regain focus, and that’s when he sees Cas, lying a few feet away on his back, and his eyes are closed. Crawling over to him, he touches the side of his face, and begins to shake him.

“Hey, Cas, wake up.”

The angel blinks his eyes open and as soon as he sees Dean, they widen. He sits up and looks around as Dean does the same, and he knows exactly where they are. They are outside the bunker, up on that small hill. He sighs, a ton of weight being lifted off of him, and now he just hopes they are in 2015. The first thing Dean does after that thought is reach into his pocket for his cell phone.

_Please let there be a signal._

And there is. Dean sinks back down, his shoulders relaxing. “We’re home,” he says to Cas.

After sending a text to Sam to let them in, he and Cas head to the door and wait. He hopes Sam is even home and he didn’t do something stupid and try to look for them. He knows his little brother still feels guilty for not searching for them when they were thrown into Purgatory, but this time, he hopes Sam just remained patient, knowing he’ll find a way back to him.

The front door swings open and his gigantic brother is standing there, a look of shock on his face, followed by the biggest smile he think he’s ever see Sam give him. “Dean! Cas!”

Then the big moose hugs come shortly after.

“Guys, where they hell have you been? I’ve been trying to--”

“Sam, we will explain it all in a minute. Can we at least go inside?”

Sam nods and moves out of the way for them, as they head inside the bunker. Home has never felt this good and Dean wants to just strip out of his clothes, take a long shower (preferably with Cas), and maybe sleep for four days.

“I still can’t believe -- what happened?” Sam asks, refusing to let the guys relax for even a second.

“Long story, short?” Dean asks him as they all head to the table in the war room.

“No, long story long. Tell me everything!”

 _Everything?_ Where does he even begin? “Well, we found _that_ Cas, and there was a portal tear in his world, we--”

“Oh my God, was he okay?”

“Sam, can you let me finish?” Dean says, playfully acting annoyed, but he really isn’t. He’s so damn happy to be home with Cas, in the bunker, with his brother. For the first time in weeks, he feels relieved.

“Yeah, sorry. Continue.”

“But funny thing about that portal tear… when we went to fix it, it zapped Cas and I back to our dimension, except, to the sixties.”

“What? You guys were stuck in the sixties?”

“Yup. So that’s why we were a little late coming home,” Dean says, smiling slightly.

He sits back in his chair, answering every question Sam has about their time travel adventure and he tells him everything from Central Park, hippies, peace rallies, young Missouri, Joe Tanner, and Woodstock. He even mentions Metatron and he notices Sam’s cheerful grin turn to a sour frown.

“He’s there? Like, hiding out?”

“He’s human, so we took mercy on him.”

“Wow. And you actually went to Woodstock? Dean, seriously, in a million years I would never think you’d be happy in a place like that.”

Dean chuckles, nodding. _He ain’t wrong._ “I don’t know. It was something about the vibe there, being in that time, the music, the energy, I actually loved it. It was fun. Cas and I even did shrooms.”

“What?” Sam hollers.

He notices that Cas has been silent this whole time and so he glances at him. He’s just watching the both of them, smiling, with his hands in front of him, resting on the table. “Right, Cas?”

Castiel nods. "Yes, it was quite the experience.” He looks down, blushing and Dean’s beginning to understand what's going on in his angels’ mind. Okay, so mind reading is out of the question, but he gets it now - how one can pick up on what the other is feeling, without the need for words.

So Dean moves his arm and rests it on the table, sliding his hand over to Cas’ and lacing his fingers with his. He watches Cas look down at their hands and then up and him, blushing even more so and utterly surprised. Dean just smiles wide for him and that's when they both turn to Sam, who is watching all of this with a raised brow.

“Something else happened, Sammy.”

All Sam could do is raise his arms to the air as he falls back into his chair. “Finally!” This causes them both to laugh. “How? Wait, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know, okay wait, I do, what--”

“It just happened, Sam, when we were in Chitaqua. I guess you can say,” Dean turns to Cas. “We finally let ourselves open up about it.” Cas smiles back at him.

“That's great, guys, Really. I mean, I knew it would happen, I just had no idea when. With the way you two idiots were acting, I thought we were doomed for another seven years of sexual tension and hidden feelings. Man, that would have totally sucked.”

“Tell me about it,” Cas says, half under his breath.

Dean looks at him, tilting his head. “Hey, you were just as bad as I was, Cas. You never told me jack about anything, so…”

Sam clears his throat to get their attention. “I bet you guys need a warm meal, a hot shower, and some sleep huh? I’ll go grab some Chinese. Sound good?”

“Actually yes, it does," Dean says, squeezing Cas hand and smiling at him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“So Sam seems pleased,” Cas says as he squirts shampoo into his palm. Dean watches him scrub his head as the suds begin to cover his eyebrows. He really will never get used to how cute he is, like all the damn time.

“I knew he would be. He supports us, he always knew.”

Dean lathers the soap in his hands and washes Cas’ back, taking extra time on his lower parts and ass. His angel hums at the touch, and it’s making Dean instantly hard. He pulls Cas under the stream to wash off the soap and presses his chest to his back, planting small kisses on his neck.

He moves his hands down his chest, over his stomach and to his erection, stroking him, slowly as Cas begins to moan. Then suddenly, the angel is turning around, taking Dean’s hands in his. “Let’s move this to your room, I’ve always wanted to-- uh...”

Dean grins. “Fool around in my bed?”

Castiel nods, bashfully. Dean kisses him, trying not to crack up. He’s so damn elated that Cas is thinking the same damn thing he is: how hot and exciting it would be to have him in his bed, his very own bed where he spent so many nights imagining it.

Soon, they’re wrapping themselves in towels and padding quickly to Dean’s room. He slams the door shut, laughing as the two let their towers drop and they fall onto the bed. Dean is in between Cas’ legs, running his hands up and down his thick thighs, and kissing him passionately, pressing his tongue hard against his.

Their bodies are grinding, erections touching, and Dean feels like he’s in goddamned Heaven. They're in his room, his bed, naked, and his angel is so, so hot, it should be illegal. He’s not even thinking about what they’re doing, only that it feels so fucking good, and he doesn't even realize that he’s reaching over to the night stand for his lube - which to be honest, was never used - and he starts spreading some at Cas’ opening.

Cas is moaning, writhing under him as he fingers him. One finger, then two, moving slowly, deep into him. He’s so tight and all Dean can think of is being inside of him - a sudden yearning that he's never felt before. He applies more lube on his shaft and jerks himself before positing his body between Cas’ legs again. No thought is really going into this, it’s like they're both just doing what is natural between them; making love, melting into each other, becoming one.

Dean inches the head of his cock in, and Cas let’s out a gasp. Dean opens his eyes, pulling back a little to take a look at him, making sure he’s okay, that he’s not hurting him, but when Cas grabs his ass, forcing Dean further in, they both hiss, and Dean has his answer right there.

He’s so warm, his muscles clenching around him, as Dean begins to move in and out, carefully. He lets his body fall, their chests pressed together, as Dean grabs hold of Cas’ thigh, lifting it a little as he moves faster inside of him.  He hears words like, “Oh Dean, that’s so good,” and “Yes Dean, yes.”

Cas is biting his shoulder, kissing his neck, moaning against his cheek and it’s making Dean lose his damn mind.

And they kiss, hungrily, tongues a sloppy mess, and then he feels a warm wetness spreading between them, and when Cas’ muscles begin to tighten around Dean, he unloads into him, coming hard, pumping and throbbing inside his tightness. His body falls limp on top of his angel, and he feels his strong arms wrapping around him, hugging him.

“Oh God, Dean, that was.., I don’t even know what that was.”

Dean giggles against his neck. He slowly slides off of him, keeping his arm draped across his chest. Cas turns his head on the pillow to look at Dean, and gives him a small peck on his nose. He turns on his side to kiss Cas, taking his head in his hands. “So, that was okay? I mean what we did?”

Cas smirks as he lifts the sheets, showing off the mess he made on himself. “What do you think?”

Dean laughs. “Just checking.”

Castiel laughs too, and then presses his lips to Dean’s. When he pulls away, he looks deeply into his eyes, as Dean gently sweeps his hair from Cas’ forehead. “I told you, you don’t have to keep checking. If something isn’t okay, I will tell you.”

Dean sighs a breath of relief. “Okay, okay.”

“Plus, I’d love to be on the other end of that act, one day,” Cas says with a pirate smile, and damn, that look alone has Dean hard again.

“Promise?”

Cas nods, giggling. “I promise.”

He can’t believe they’re actually home, together, after all they had just gone through. The adventure of a lifetime. And then he remembers that there is still yet another issue they need to resolve. “When should we check on the other Cas?”

Castiel sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “Soon. I have this feeling, I don't know, call it a gut feeling, that he's okay, but yes, we should check in on him.”

“Like after we eat some dinner?” Dean’s stomach growls at the thought of some fresh Chinese food.

“Sure.”

Even their angry loud stomachs is not making them want to leave the bed. Dean's now thinking of texting Sam to deliver the food to his room, so they could just stay here, naked, and not have to think about anything else for a few hours. They're home, but they still have work to do, and Dean sighs, realizing that there is still so much more they need to take care of, and seeing this other Cas is only part of it. 

There's the Darkness. Some evil force that they have yet to see, other than it ripping apart dimension barriers. 

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

“And it will somehow work? What if the sigil he made is gone? Or tampered with?” Sam asks them, insistent on keeping Dean and Castiel here. They’re going back to Chitaqua and Sam has been begging them to stay since they told him.

“If the sigil there is gone, then it won’t work, period. Then we have nothing to do but wait until we can find him in Dean’s dreams. I am too weak to… I can’t dreamwalk. At least not with him. Dean, maybe, but that’s because of our… connection.”

Dean shoots a smile at Castiel, who’s blushing like crazy. “Just be ready to bring us back, okay?” Dean tells Sam.

Sam shake his head, crossing his arms, and it’s reminding Dean of when they were kids and Dean would have to go on a hunt with Dad, warning Sam to be good, behave, and don’t answer the door for anyone. Sam would protest, pout, and either whine about them leaving him all the time, or about the fact he wasn’t aloud to ride along.

“Why won’t it work both ways - the sigil to bring you guys home, I mean. I can draw it now and--”

“Because we’re going to a different plane of existence, Sammy. You gotta be able to bring us back. Going there is one thing, but getting home is another.”

He watches his little brother deflate and then he extends his arms, surrendering. “Fine, but come right back. No Woodstock detours!”

“Well, let’s just hope that doesn’t happen again,” Dean says, glancing at Castiel who is nodding.

Cas is suited up again and it's weird, because Dean's gotten so used to him in his washed out rock band t-shirts and blue jeans. Even his hair is different, far from the mess it had been these last few days. But this is Cas; his tax accountant look-a-like, nerdy little angel. 

They’re back in Dean’s room, doing the 'pre-dimension hopping ritual' of cutting their palms, combing their blood in the bowl, and Castiel starts the incantation. They hold hands, and Dean turns to Sam one last time. “Three days.”

Sam reluctantly nods, and bites his bottom lip. He gets why Sam wants them to stay, he does. This parallel jumping is even beginning to make Dean panic a bit. After being sent to the sixties, all because that portal tear knew they didn’t belong in the other Cas’ dimension, its scary. Too unpredictable. 

What if it happens again, this time without the spells or hoodoo. What if he and Cas are sent to yet another timeline? Or what if they become separated and sent to two different places in history and neither one will know where the other is.

A chill runs down his spine but before he could react, they’re being forced into that weird vortex, and soon he feels the pulling and pushing, his body being tossed around like a rag doll, but he holds Cas’ hand tightly, and he thinks he might have even drawn blood from his nails digging into his flesh.

This time, he’s thrown onto the pavement and all the air escapes his lungs as his body makes the hard impact. This wasn’t as painless as it was the first time, and as he tries to crawl to his knees to get an idea of their whereabouts, he notices that they are on the road, right outside of the camp; better than last time, when they were in the middle of a Croat infested woods.

He turns to Castiel who is already on his feet and extending his hand to help Dean onto his. “Are you okay, Dean?”

Dean rises, dusting himself off. “Yeah, I think so. Just a little shaken.”

“I didn’t expect us to land so hard. I think each time we come here, it will be worse and worse, so let’s check on Castiel and get out of here.”

Dean watches Castiel walk towards the camp and he jogs to catch up to him. He’s expecting the two people at the gate to be there, but they’re not and he’s surprised that the gate isn’t even locked; he pushes it, and it swings open.

It’s quiet. Too quiet. He’s wondering if everyone decided to stay indoors today, because even the few days he’d been here, there were always people about, either hanging outside of their cabins, or training in that area in the back, even those who were socializing, just trying to make the best of a shitty situation.

But today, nothing.

They head straight for Cas’ cabin, and Dean almost trips when he walks over a gun lying there in their path. He bends down to pick it up, and checks if it’s loaded. It is. “Why would someone just leave this lying around?”

Castiel shakes his head, examining it. “Perhaps they dropped it, accidentally?”

Dean clicks his tongue. “Yeah, but in their situation, you don't want to walk around unarmed and you sure as hell won’t accidentally drop the one thing that may be able to protect you.”

“Good point.”

They stop outside of the other Cas’ cabin and stare at it for a moment. The front door it wide open, leaving only the beads separating it from the outside world. Dean glances around and notices that some of the doors on the other cabins are open as well. There are a few scattered clothes lying around, some open suitcases, and he starts to feel sick.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he says to Castiel as they head up the steps. Moving the beads aside, he hesitantly peeks in, letting his panic begin to take over. Inside, there’s no sign of Cas, or anyone else.

They both walk into the middle of the room, looking around for any sign of life, or even a clue as to what’s going on, but then Dean shakes his head, calming himself down. He’s over thinking things, as usual. He’s confusing his dream with reality and Cas is probably in Chuck’s cabin, or maybe someone else's, or hell, maybe they all went on a supply run; it’s not like Cas was expecting Dean and Castiel to return to him.

“Dean, look,” Castiel says, pointing to the table.

There are half full cups of coffee, half eaten bagels, and scattered papers. Dean heads over to the table and sifts through them, finding some sketches of the mark of Cain, a few location coordinates, and something written in Enochian, to which is lost on Dean.

“Return the mark to the original owner” Castiel says, aloud.

Dean turns to him, eyebrows furrowed. “Lucifer?”

Castiel focuses and picks up the rest of the papers, eyeing them intensely. After a minute, he looks up at Dean, his face plagued with worry.  “He’s going to try and put the mark back on Lucifer…”

Dean looks back down at the piece of paper he’s holding. “Why?”

“He’s going to try and cure that other Dean.”

“Son of a--”

They’re both startled when they hear a door slam from a cabin across the way. Dean reaches for his gun, Castiel - his blade, and they walk cautiously to the steps. He spots someone closing the curtains, quickly, as if to not be noticed. Whatever the hell is happening, it just got a whole lot weirder. The camp has become a ghost town, where once there was life, there's now an eerie silence, and that person across the way just got noticed, whether they like it or not. 

Walking over there, Dean lowers his gun, and knocks on the door. “Hello? Who’s there?”

Nothing but silence. Dean knocks again, harder. “Hey, it’s Dean and Cas, from the uh, other place. What’s going on here?”

Finally he hears movement on the other side of the door and soon it’s opening, slowly. Miriam peeks her head out, looking at them from head to toe and then steps back, opening the door. “Hurry, get in.”

“Miriam, what’s going on? Where is everyone?”

She slams the door shut, again and moves to the center of the room. She’s armed to the teeth, strapped with a machine gun, pistols in both her thigh holsters, two blades on her belt, and Dean has to admit, she looks kind of hot.

And okay, not the time or the place.

"You know, if you're trying to go unnoticed, slamming that door is really not the greatest idea," Dean jokes.

“What the hell happened to you two? Cas and Chuck came back and said you guys got sucked into some vortex?”

“Yeah, and to the sixties. We had a hell of a time trying to get home, and back here.”

Miriam eases and runs a hand through her damp hair. She looks exhausted, and he's wondering when the last time she's seen a wink of sleep. “Well, that was when it all went to shit.”

“What, Miriam. Tell us,” Castiel asks her, shooting her his best puppy dog face and Dean wishes he could kiss him right now, but again: time and place…

She moves to the back of the cabin towards a small table and a few chairs. She sits, gesturing for them to join her. She sets her machine gun down on the table and sighs, rubbing her temples. “You’d never think a school teacher would know her way around a gun, huh?”

Dean tilts his head, getting a good look at her, and yea, she’s right. “No, not really, but back to our question…”

She lets out a heavy breath, and rests her elbows on the table in front of her. Her hands lace together and she twists her fingers around, nervously. Something bad happened and Dean's not sure he's ready for the news. “Right. Well, after Cas and Chuck came back, _he_ came.”

“He?” Cas asks.

“Lucifer. The fucking devil. He actually came here, looking for,” she turns to Dean, “you.”

“Me?”

“He took Cas and Chuck and then everyone else fled. They felt it wasn’t safe now that Lucifer knew this camp existed.” She wipes a tear from her eye. “Guys, everyone split up. I--I couldn’t leave though, because… out there,” she points, her hand shaking so badly Dean reaches out to grab it, trying to offer her some comfort.

She continues, “Out there it’s worse. I’d rather be killed by the devil, swift and quick, than be eaten by a Croat, or even worse... become one.”

“It’s okay,” Castiel says. “You were smart to stay.” He pauses, looking at Dean briefly. “Do you know where Lucifer could have taken them?”

She shakes her head. “They were waiting for that other Dean… the scarier one, to come. Cas said they had this big plan, but before they could do anything, Lucifer showed.”

Dean looks at Castiel, feeling even more confused. “Why would they be waiting for _that_ Dean… wait, so we didn’t close the tear?”

“You guys did.”

“So how in the hell--”

“Because Dean was already here,” Castiel says, calmly and all eyes fall in him. “He wasn’t trying to keep Dean out, he was trying to keep him in." He sits back in his chair, shaking his head.

That's some assumption but he thinks he's right. 

Dean’s eyes widen. Why would he lie to them? Why did he tell them some crazy story of how scared he was, that _that_ Dean was trying to kill him, and the dreams… what the hell were those about?

“And they’re trying to cure him, by putting that damn mark back on Lucifer,” Dean adds. “They wanted him to take them. This was their plan all along." 

And it's like a giant light bulb just went on in his head. Suddenly he's seeing how it all pieces together, and he's furious that he wasn't in on it. 

They all eye each other, and for a few more minutes, they don’t say a word, each of them obviously thinking about how fucking risky this whole plan is. Finally, Miriam speaks up.

“So, any idea what to do now?”

Dean shakes his head and glances at Castiel who appears equally lost. “Find them?”

 

* * *

 

Castiel may be drained but he’s still an angel and he can sense Lucifer’s energy. This is what he tells Dean, anyway, and really, it’s all they have right now. As they head on into the woods, he wonders if the other Dean is already searching for them, if he was even in on this plan all along, too. Or was Cas just doing his usual thing of trying to help Dean without him knowing.

He looks at his angel, thinking about this last year, and sure he could be pissed about what happened with the damn book of the Damned, but he gets it. He also gets why the other Cas is trying to cure the 'mark of Cain Dean'. It’s just in their nature. Neither Castiel wants to stand by and watch any version of himself turn dark.

Miriam insisted on coming along, and who is Dean to deny her that right. She’s ready for battle and her fearless heart is something to be admired. He wonders how she was before all of this happened - before their world went to shit.

She’s tough, there’s no question about that, but she’s also extremely feminine; the way her hair bounces in her high ponytail, how she insists on wearing bright red lipstick, even if that’s the only makeup on her face, her tank top, low enough to show off her cleavage.

She’s also a beacon of light and energy, optimistic and bright. She hasn’t let this shithole of an existence make her bitter and that is her most admirable quality.

“Our Cas could sense the devil too. It’s why he said we were safe. He hadn’t felt Lucifer since that day… that fucked up day…” She turns to Castiel. “And that was a year ago.”

Castiel smiles, slightly. “Even with our powers drained, we can feel other angels. Demons too.” 

He retired his trenchcoat, assuming he's now regretting wearing his old get up for this trip. His body is reacting as any human's would; hot, he's sweaty, and irritable. With his rolled up sleeves, loosened tie, and a few of the buttons of his white shirt undone, Dean can't help but be a little turned on. 

“Huh,” she shrugs. “How about Croats?”

Castiel nods, about to answer her but then Dean looks head, realizing she was pointing at something. His heart leaps out of his chest when he sees about a dozen Croats in the distance. They haven't noticed them yet, thankfully, but he places his hand over the rifle he grabbed from Cas’ cabin.

“Just back up, slowly,” he says, shooting Castiel a warning look.

Each step is carefully taken, slow and steady as to not make a noise, and that’s when Dean hears the snap of a branch under his feet and he swears to God, it's louder than a damn bomb.

And it makes the Croats look in their direction, and before long, they’re making those lovely grunting sounds as they start heading their way.

“Fuck!” Dean shouts.

He looks at Castiel and is satisfied with how he armed him, a few pistols, a shotgun, and a submachine gun, and it's important because these guys are no fun trying to fight with melee skills.

Miriam is the first to open fire on the ones in the front and they go down like bowling pins. Dean raises his eyebrows and then turns his attention back on the creatures and unloads some lead as well.

They’re coming in too fast, and he’s a little worried they’re going to get too close. One bite or contact with their blood and you may as well kiss your life goodbye. Miriam is holding her own, so Dean glances at Castiel, who's firing into the group of Croats as well. But it’s not enough and soon, a few are only a couple of feet away, and Dean has to switch to his pistol for a clean close range shot.

He watches Miriam blow the head off of the one closest to her, and she moves to the next one, easily. One by one, they fall and by the time they’re at the last three, Dean is so sure of himself, he stands up straight, finishing them off.

And that’s when his blood runs cold.

He hears Castiel cry out, and when Dean turns to him, he almost loses his breath. Castiel is on the ground. A Croat, with half his body blown off, is on top of him, attacking with what little of him is left.

Dean runs to him, kicking the Croat off of him and blasts him in the head with a bullet. He looks back down at Castiel, who is panting and wearing a frightened expression. “You okay?” Dean asks, helping him to his feet.

“I think so, I--” Castiel is wincing, holding onto his side, and Dean looks down to see blood pooling under his shirt. Lifting it, Dean gasps. There’s a bite mark, deep and red and it doesn't look good at all.

“Cas?”

Castiel looks down, twisting his body to see and Dean watches all the color disappear from his cheeks. “It bit me.”

“Holy shit,” Miriam says, backing up.

“Wait, it’s okay,” Dean says. “He’s an angel," he looks at Castiel, "you’re immune, right?” He swallows the nervous lump in his throat. But he’s right, isn’t he? Castiel can’t get the fucking virus. He’s not technically a human, even if his grace is drained.

“Dean…” Castiel looks even more scared than before but Dean refuses to even have this conversation.

“No, you’re fine. Come on, let’s find those other guys.”

He won’t hear another word about it. There is no way an angel can get the Croatoan virus and that is the end of it, so they all march through the woods, counting on Castiel’s very strong _angel_ ability to guide them to Lucifer.

He just hopes this plan that those two had - the other Cas and Chuck - is going to work, because God knows what they could expect once they actually do find them. Lucifer isn’t one to play nice and when he sees Dean, he might get too many ideas, and one might be to kill him like he did the Dean from this dimension.

Miriam hands him bandages and a bottle of peroxide and Cas hisses when he pours it over the wound. "Let me wrap it up, and you'll be okay," Dean tells him, as he cleans the blood off with a clean wash cloth he found in the first aid kit Miriam brought, and thankfully so. After he places gauze and tapes it to Cas' skin, he pulls his shirt down and flashes a smile. Although, it's fake.

"Thank you, Dean."

They continue on. He does look worryingly at Castiel, occasionally and sure, in the back of his mind, he’s wondering if he'll start showing signs, but then he shakes it off, realizing how ridiculous it is. Checking out his shirt, it seems the blood has already stopped flowing out of him. He's happy Miriam is there with them. She’s on guard around him though, and he can’t blame her. After everything she’s seen, it’s normal for her to expect the worst.

“I need to rest,” Castiel calls out.

Dean turns to him and nods. This is normal, and not because of the bite. Castiel still has to succumb to human crap, and getting tired is one of them. He’s seen it a dozen times already so this time is no different.

Castiel sits down on a large rock and takes out a water bottle from the small backpack they grabbed from the camp. He gulps the entire thing down in one shot. Dean sits beside him, smirking at him. “Thirsty?”

“Very much so, yes.” Castiel lowers his head to his hands, and Dean just rests his arm on his shoulder, massaging the muscle.

“I hear ya. It’s hot as fuck out here.” Dean reaches for his own water bottle and takes a swig, looking at Miriam who is tilting her head, beckoning for him to come to her.

“I need to rest for a while and home in on Lucifer.”

Dean nods and stands, patting Castiel’s shoulder. “No problem. Take all the time you need.” He can tell his own voice sounds strained, on the verge of shaky and he hopes Castiel doesn’t pick up on it. His angel shoots him a half smile before gazing ahead, and so Dean approaches Miriam.

“ _My_ Cas, he avoided getting bit at all costs,” she says to Dean and it makes him irritated.

“Yeah well, it could happen to anyone. He’s a hell of a fighter, he--”

“That’s not what I mean. He avoided it because he was sure he could contract the virus. In fact, he made it a point to tell us this one day, before a supply run. He said-- he said if he got bit, to s-shoot him.”

Dean lets out a nervous laugh, and he shakes his head. “Yeah well, not gonna happen. Cas is fine.”

Miriam squints at him, and crosses her arms. “Look, I get it. The connection, the love you both have for each other, but if the time comes, one of us will have to--”

“I said, it’s not gonna happen. Cas is a fucking angel, Miriam. Maybe your Cas didn’t understand that, or maybe he was just more human than mine is, but trust me, he’s not sick. He’s not gonna _get_ sick.”

They both look at Castiel, and he’s looking up at the sky, his face seemingly in pain, so Dean rushes to his side again, lowering himself onto one knee. “Everything okay?”

Castiel nods. “Yes, just feeling a little achy.”

“Okay, where? Here?” Dean begins to massage his shoulders again.

Castiel hisses and grips his thighs, tightly. “No-- no, Dean, it’s-- everywhere.”

He can feel the blood rush to his face and he’s suddenly hot, sweaty, and his heart’s rhythm is speeding up. This all became unreal, like he's looking at it all from a television screen. “Alright, Cas. Just sit here as long as you need to--”

“No,” Castiel says, grimly. He pushes Dean off of him and rises to his feet, moaning in pain as he does so. “Let’s keep moving. I can feel Lucifer again, and he’s close. We need to keep going.”

“Cas…”

“I mean it, Dean. Let’s move!” he hollers, making Dean back up a little from him. Castiel is just agitated, what with having a wound on his side, and the heat, the humidity of this damn place, along with whatever else he’s picking up from Lucifer, he can’t expect Castiel to be skipping and singing about this.

Dean has to be strong, he can't freak out because this all could be nothing. If he loses it now, who will Castiel have to rely on? He needs someone who will take care of him, not become a sobbing mess. So he follows Cas’ lead, Miriam cautiously joining Dean by his side, as they trek through the dense woods.

He’s not going to lie, Castiel does look like shit and the more they walk, the worse he appears. His cheeks are pale, the bruises under his eyes are more pronounced, and he’s not even walking straight.

He’s wavering, and it’s making Dean’s stomach drop.

_He’s okay, he’s okay._

But the farther they go, the more Dean’s convinced that Castiel is _not_ okay. He swears he even hears slight growls coming from him and Dean can’t tell if he’s just letting out sounds due to the pain from that bite, or if he’s just angry about something.

It’s when Castiel turns around to look at them that Dean almost chokes. His eyes are bloodshot and Dean is suddenly hit with the reality of what’s going on.

This isn't normal. This isn't a reaction to just some random bite. This is the virus... But he refuses to give up, he refuses to let his angel succumb to some fucked up demon virus, because he just can’t. Sam was immune, so why can’t Castiel be too?

“Dean…” Miriam lays a hand on his shoulder and it makes him shudder. He knows what she’s thinking and he just can’t entertain that idea right now.

He's remembering them now at Woodstock, when Dean told him he loved him, and how Castiel's face lit up. He looked so beautiful that night, so utterly breathtaking, and it's amazing what love can do to a person. 

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Dean tells her and means it. Even if Castiel did contact the Croatoan virus, maybe his angel immune system reacts differently to it. Maybe he won’t turn into a bloodthirsty lunatic, before becoming the walking dead. He remembers that time in Oregon when he and Sam first discovered the damn thing, how it turned the townspeople violent, and that was just the first step.

He shivers, remembering what had happened to the people there, and how it all just stopped. Lucifer is one crafty son of a bitch to have made this plague over the land, use it to get rid of most of the population. It’s effective, and brutal.

But this isn’t what’s going to happen to Castiel. Not his angel. He’ll fight this and pull through, like he always does. At that thought, he jogs up to him and pats his back. “How you holding up?”

He’s afraid of the answer, but Castiel blinks quickly a few times, and turns to him. “I’ll be okay. It’s just very hot out here.”

“Here,” Dean reaches in for his water. “Have something to drink.” He hands it to him, and Castiel takes it, opens the top, and finishes it in one gulp.

“Better?”

Castiel nods and then turns his focus back on the trail. Dean walks by his side, occasionally glancing over at him, studying him, and he doesn’t seem to be getting worse, which he guesses is a good sign, but at the same time, he’s not getting any better either.

He just wants to get to where they need to be and be done with this place. If Cas - the Cas from here - needs to cure this other Dean, then fine. Maybe it will a good thing for everyone. Maybe whatever is making Castiel feel this way will disappear too.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of movement up ahead. He turns to Castiel, who is reaching for his gun and then to Miriam, who is doing the same. The sound is getting closer, but it’s hard to see anything through the thick brush.

“If someone’s there, and you’re not a Croat, speak up now, or we will unload on you,” Dean shouts.

“Dean?” A voice calls out, sounding way too similar and soon, a figure emerges, his hands up and Dean lets out a sigh, but keeping his gun aimed at… _himself_.

“Let me guess, you’re the ‘mark of Cain Dean’,” Dean says to him. 

The other Dean scans the three of them, still keeping his hands up. The mark is visible and as he glances at it briefly, he raises his eyebrows. “Ya think?”

Miriam lets out a nervous laugh. “Okay, I’ve seen everything.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Why are you trying to kill Cas?” Dean asks him, keeping the gun pointed to this other Dean’s head, as useless as that is. 

“What? I’m not trying to kill him,” he says, glancing briefly at Castiel. “What the hell is wrong with _him_?”

“Never mind,” Dean says, fighting off the urge to look at his angel, himself. “Why was Cas, the other Cas, having dreams about you killing him?”

The other Dean rolls his eyes. “I don’t know. But I swear, I’m not. Lucifer... he’s using him as bait. He wants me, us.”

“Why?”

“Look, Cas told me you were around, helping, we’re obviously both from very different worlds. If I had all the answers, trust me, I’d give them to you, but right now, all I know is, Lucifer has Cas and I am here to… transfer the mark back to him.”

Dean smirks. “Just like that?”

“Don’t know. But it’s worth a try. You don’t know what it’s been like… I’ve--”

“Oh I know. I had that damn mark for two years,” Dean tells him, finally lowering his gun. He’s pretty sure this Dean isn’t intent on killing them, and he knows when he’s lying, since he is an expert on himself.

“What? How- how did you get rid of it?”

Castiel moves in closer to the other Dean, studying him, and part of him wants to pull him back, but his counterpart remains still, his eyes warming up to the angel. “We had a book of spells, called the Book of the Damned. It unleashed a terrible evil into our world. I wish we would have known…” Castiel sighs.

“Oh, well, all we’re gonna do is give it right back to the fucker who started it all,” the other Dean says, still staring at Castiel, affectionately. “I miss him.”

Castiel backs up, taking his place next to Dean. “Miss who?”

“My Cas. He’s-- gone. So is… Sam.”

“What happened?” Castiel asks him, before breaking out into a violent coughing fit. Dean grabs hold of him, and clings tightly until he stops.

“Dude, he doesn’t look good. He looks like--”

“He’ll be fine,” Dean snaps at the other Dean.  He looks down at Castiel, feeling like he’s going to break down and cry. _Why is this happening?_   “Right, Cas?”

Castiel nods, weakly and then straightens up. “You killed them,” he says to Dean’s counterpart.

“What? No!” he shouts back at him. “I could never… I mean I almost did but, no. Death did. Fucking daddy of the reapers. I tried, I fucking tried to make a deal with him, and he took away the two people who mean the most to me, because--”

“He didn’t trust them to stop finding a cure,” Dean interrupts.

“Yeah,” he sighs.

“Almost happened to me too. “Cept, I killed Death.”

The other Dean’s eyes grow wide. “What?”

Dean tenses as the memory of that ill fated day comes back to him. “Long story.”

His counterpart eases and lowers himself onto a tree stump. He’s staring at Castiel again, his face long and sad. It’s weird seeing himself this miserable.

“I’m looking at my best friend, and I’m about to see my brother. Or what looks like him. This is all a little much,” he says, looking down at his shoes.

Dean moves in closer to him. “Have you seen Cas? The Cas from this dimension?”

The other Dean shakes his head. “No, only in dreams. I was being pulled here, though, to this dimension and had no idea why. He told me, in our last dream together that I was being drawn to Lucifer, and he was being drawn to me. The mark has something to do with it.”

“So, you knew he was gonna seal you in here?”

He nods. “Look, the plan is practical. Crazy, but practical.”

“To cure yourself by giving the mark to Lucifer,” Castiel says.

“Yeah. I’ve been here for a few days, and I can’t find them anywhere,” he smiles at Castiel. “But I bet you could.”

“Yes, this is what we were doing when we ran into you. They’re not far,” Castiel tells him. Dean can tell he’s struggling to speak, that each breath is a task in and of itself, so he places his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“You okay to keep walking?”

He doesn’t answer him and is soon taking the lead, Dean walking behind him, taking a look at a reluctant Miriam. She just shrugs and follows, his counterpart moving in next to him.

“You wanna level with me? What happened to Cas?” he asks him, quietly.

Dean draws in a shaky breath, watching his angel in front of him and he wishes he could just go back in time again, before they came here, when they were lying in his bed, wrapped up in each other and talking about how much they don’t want to do anything but be there in that bed, soaking in each other’s warmth. Now Castiel can barely walk and it’s breaking his damn heart.

“He got bit.”

The other Dean furrows his brow, looking back and forth between him and Castiel. “By what?”

Dean swallows. “A Croat.”

“Are you,” he lowers his voice, “fucking serious?”

“Yeah, and so what, he’s an angel, he should be able to fight it, right?”

“He doesn't look very angely to me. Is he... like this Cas here?”

Dean looks ahead, feeling that heat rise up again in his cheeks. “Sorta. He’s drained. He’s acting human, but-- but I don’t know, man, this should blow over. I mean, he can’t really be vulnerable to the goddamned Croat virus just because his mojo is drained.”

“Let’s hope you’re right, because honestly, he looks like shit.”

He glances at his counterpart and shivers, recognizing that darkness radiating from him and it sends his mind back to when he had that damn curse as well. “You’re doing better with that thing that I was.”

“Yeah? I wouldn’t be so sure. I feel like I’m fucking Jekyll and Hyde.”

“Ah, I remember that all too well. And I don’t miss it.” Dean sighs, feeling sad for that Dean, now. Walking around with that curse was no picnic. To add salt to the wound, he lost Sammy and Cas and that’s gotta sting like a bitch. “Sorry for what happened…”

He lowers his head. “Yeah, me too. I’ve been a mess ever since. So when this Cas started contacting me, I figured that there was nothing left to lose. I already lost everything and everyone on my side of the fence, might as well help out over here.”

“Are you gonna stay? I mean, after?”

The other Dean flashes a small smile at him, and it’s both sad and frightening. “I think so. Got nothing back home to go to, and even though Sammy is dead here, Cas isn’t and well, I dunno… maybe I can make things right.”

He admires that about… himself. He’d probably do the same thing. Sam and Cas are his world and if both were gone, there’d really be no reason for anything. They have hunters in his world, they will do what they can to take down evil. It doesn’t always have to be _his_ job… and if he’s needed elsewhere, then why the hell not.

Castiel stops in his tracks and turns his face to the sky. Dean watches him, curious as to what he’s doing and he figures he’s just zeroing in on Lucifer’s location, but then Castiel turns to Dean, narrowing his gaze on him and there’s something in his eyes that’s making the hair on his body stand on end.

“Cas?”

“It’s all your fault. It’s always your fault, Dean,” Castiel spews, and Dean has to blink a few times, making sure he’s actually hearing this and not dreaming or something. He walks over to his angel and reaches out to him.

“What are you talking about, Cas?”

Castiel moves swiftly, over to the other Dean and grabs his arm, forcefully. “This. The damn mark. You had to go get this stupid thing, and not once did you talk to me. Not once!”

“Cas, man, calm down,” Dean says as the other Dean jerks his arm out of Castiel’s grip and backs away from him. Dean places a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and he flinches, taking hold of Dean’s wrist.

“I won’t calm down. You’re reckless, and your lack of self worth and appreciation for your own life has ruined all of ours. You’re selfish, Dean.”

His hold on Dean’s wrist begins to hurt, and Dean tries to break free, but Castiel only squeezes tighter. For an angel without mojo, he sure as hell is as strong as if he’s fully charged. “Let go!”

He hears clicks of guns and when he notices Miriam and the other Dean pointing their pistols at Castiel, Dean holds his free arm up. “Hey, no, put those away, Cas is just delirious, he’s--”

“Sick of your shit,” Castiel says, right before punching Dean right in the jaw. He sees flashes of light, stars, and everything gets real hazy, real fast. He feels Castiel let go of him, but it’s only to pounce on him, and before Dean realizes what’s happening, he’s on his back with Castiel straddling him, sending one punch after another to his face and head.

Dean doesn’t fight back, but he tries to bring up his hands to cover his face as Castiel's fists slam down on him. He's yelling obscenities and insults, words Dean has never heard come out of his angel's mouth. Dean opens his eyes, afraid of what he might see, and those blue eyes are hard and unrelenting. 

He doesn't even look like Castiel right now.

"Cas..."

Suddenly Castiel's face softens and he grabs hold of Dean's shirt. "Dean... you have to kill me, Dean. Kill me."

Dean bites down, clenching his jaw. "No. I'll never do that."

Castiel closes his eyes and when he opens them, he's full of rage again, his fist coming into contact with Dean's face. "You're so stupid," he growls at him.

Dean closes his eyes, refusing to see him like this, and then the hits finally stop when the other Dean punches Castiel so hard, it knocks him out. He forgot how strong he had been with the mark on his arm, and right now, he’s damn thankful his counterpart is here.

Crawling over to an unconscious Castiel, he tries to wrap his brain around what the hell just happened. He feels a hand on his shoulder, and he looks too see the darker Dean staring sympathetically.

“It’s the virus. Remember? It makes people go batshit crazy before it--”

“Yeah, I remember. I just didn’t think it would get to this point with him.” Dean gently brushes his fingers against his angel's cheeks, feeling his eyes well with tears. This is bad, real bad, and he has no idea what he can do about it.

“Great, so now that he’s out, how in the hell are we supposed to find my Cas and Chuck?” Miriam says, grunting.

Dean ignores her, even though she’s right.

“They can't be far. I think Cas was sensing them before he went all… nuts on you,” the other Dean points out.”

Dean looks up at him, a single tear escaping his eye and he wipes it away. “So, what? We carry him?”

His counterpart looks confused, as he watches him with Castiel and he understands why. He has no idea how far they’ve come, and it’s probably freaking him out right about now seeing Dean so affectionate and obviously pained by what’s happening.

“I’ll stay with him,” he offers, and Dean shakes his head.

“He might be dangerous when he wakes up.”

The other Dean turns his arm, flashing the mark. “And I’m cursed, strong as hell, and ain’t no demon virus getting inside me. Trust me, I’m the only one who could be around him right now.”

Dean looks back down at Castiel and he feels his heart aching. But he’s right, he would be immune to the virus and he’s strong enough to hold his own in case Castiel gets twitchy again. Still, he hates to leave his angel like this.

But he agrees to it anyway, taking that risk, which seems to be their only option at the moment. He gives Miriam the nod, and soon the two of them head off in the direction where they _think_ Castiel was leading them.

He takes one more look behind him, silently telling Castiel that he loves him and then makes eye contact with the other Dean, offering him a small and fragile smile. He’s not going to lose Castiel to this. He just won’t. And if he has to make Lucifer fix him, he’ll do just that.


	19. Chapter 19

“So what do you expect we’ll find once we get to where ever it is Lucifer is keeping _my_ Cas and Chuck?”

Dean turns to Miriam but his mind is a million miles away. They’ve been on the same path for fifteen minutes, on their way to God knows what, and all he can think about is Castiel and that stupid fucking virus.

So much of him wants to run back there and screw this mission. He wants to get him home, summon angels or whoever, and get Castiel better, again. Get him back to himself. But he knows how fast this illness works, he knows that they’d never make it in time before Castiel turns into the very thing he’d have to put down.

And Dean can’t even think about that.

He’s angry as hell too. Angry at the world, at Lucifer, at everything that’s making this happen. They just started their relationship together. They finally did the unthinkable and now what? He’ll be taken from him? Just like that?

His hands are in fists as they walk, and he’s finding it hard to even breath. With the extreme humidity and his own body heat rising, he’s worried he might even faint, right here.

“Cas, _your_ Cas, seemed to think this plan was a good idea, so let’s hope they have a few tricks up their sleeves, ‘cause honestly, going face to face with the devil ain’t something either of us want,” Dean tells her.

“You met him, right?”

He nods. “Yeah, and I really would not like to again.”

A chill runs down his spine remembering his brother - who wasn’t his brother at all - giving some speech about how unfairly Lucifer had been treated, how his punishment did not match the crime, and all Dean could think about was ripping out his black heart.

Now, he’s going to have to see it all again; the devil wearing his brother’s face, and he’s not looking forward to it. But if it will save Castiel, even by a long shot, he has to suck it up and just go, find this other Cas and hopefully put a stop to all this crap.

Crap he didn't ask for. Crap none of them asked for.

“If we die, it was nice knowing you, I mean in the little time we got to fight together.”

Dean shakes his head, offering a small smile. “We’re not gonna die. Not on my watch.”

Miriam eyes him curiously. “Are you always this confident?”

“Only when I have to be.”

Only when the love of his life is lying sick in the middle of nowhere, dying of a virus that will turn him into a goddamned zombie. He’s holding back tears, which is a struggle. He hasn’t felt his heart break like this in a long time. With each step they take, the anguish grows within him, and it’s taking all his strength to hold himself together.

And his mind is on last night, in bed together, on top of him, kissing him, being inside of him, and he’s never felt so close to anyone like that in his entire life. The places Castiel takes him to are unreal, bringing Dean to this high level of love, of peace, and his angel has no idea, or maybe he does.

Maybe Dean does the same for him. Maybe.

“So tell me about you guys, ‘cause all I can think of is the fucked up relationship _my_ Cas and Dean had.”

Dean looks at her, but this time he can’t even find the energy to smile. Not even a fake one. “Look, I’d rather not. I-I’m just a little--”

“I get it. It’s hard to see the one you love fall ill. I lost my husband to the virus.”

He swallows. “Miriam, I’m so sorry.”

“It was real hard at first, I wanted to kill every damn Croat on the face of the planet. It made me train to be a better fighter, though, and it also gave me something to fight _for_.”

Dean sighs, feeling guilty for being so self absorbed. She’s walking into the lion’s den, and has not even batted an eye. It’s not just Castiel he has to worry about, it’s her too, and he feels sick for not even letting her know how much he appreciates her being here.

“You’re a hell of a fighter, Miriam. Thanks for coming with.”

She snorts, adjusting the strap of her gun. “Hey, if I can get my guys back, at least we can start rebuilding the camp and maybe get some of our folks to return, after we find out what the damn devil wants.”

And that is the question of the century. What in the hell does Lucifer want, anyway? The other Dean said the mark was pulling them together, but why? Why in two different dimensions? He knows Lucifer was the original bearer of the mark - that ended up being a curse, but why would that energy draw them together?

Dean didn’t feel any connection to Lucifer when he had the thing, but then again, he was half out of his mind most of the time, it could have been there and he never would have recognized it. Maybe that's what the darkness is: some kind of malevolent force that binds those who locked it up.

“Hey, look over there,” Miriam says, pointing to a run down shack in the distance. “We should check it out.”

“You think they could be in there?”

She shrugs. “Dunno, but it’s worth looking.”

Dean follows her, skeptical that they will find anything but dead animals and maybe some remnants of human life, but as they get closer, the shack appears bigger, and when he notices anti-angel sigils on the windows, Dean places his hand on his gun.

“Wait,” he says with his arm out, stopping Miriam from walking any farther.

“What is it?”

“Those symbols there, those are to ward off angels, but why, if all the angels are gone?”

“Cause Lucifer is an angel?”

They approach the front of the cabin, cautiously, and Dean gestures for her to check around the back from the left as he takes the right. He looks through a window, seeing nothing but bare walls and a broken wooden table. When he makes his way around to the back, Miriam is there already, shaking her head.

“It looks empty.”

Dean starts walking to the front. “There’s only one way to find out.”

The door’s locked and that’s to be expected. He doesn’t waste any time kicking it in, much to Miriam’s amusement. The room they enter is empty, save for a few chairs and that broken table,  but there are signs that someone was here, recently, if the fresh blood on the floor is any indication.

“Is that--”

“Yeah,” Dean says, looking around. “Stay here, I’m going to check the other rooms.”

She nods at him, and he heads down the small hallway, where there are two doors on each side. One by one, he checks them, and they're empty, as he suspected. Turning back to the main room where Miriam is, he spots something on the ground.

Looking down, his eyes widen. Dean reaches for it, and when he holds it up to the light, his mouth goes dry. “The amulet?”

“The what now?”

He shows Miriam the necklace that Sam had given him when they were kids, and he had never taken off until that day they both died and spent an interesting time in Heaven. Dean couldn’t hold onto such a thing, then, after knowing Sam wanted nothing to do with him half the time.

It hurt. It still hurts, sometimes. That was also when they were told God wasn’t coming back, and he remembers the anguish in Castiel after hearing the news. He wishes this necklace held better memories than the one he has from the last time he saw the thing.

“My brother gave this to me. It must have belonged to the other Dean… your Dean.”

“Oh.” She leans in to get a better look at it. “Looks strange, what kind of amulet is that?”

“No clue. It was supposed to burn hot in the presence of God. Of course, Sammy and I had no idea at the time. We didn’t find that out until Cas--”

“Dean!” A familiar voice calls out, and Dean snaps his head in the direction of where it came from. Coming through a secret door behind a bookshelf is Hippy Cas. “You’re back!”

Miriam lowers her gun, and sighs a breath of relief. “Yeah, and we came looking for you.”

Cas moves into the room, now eyeing the necklace in Dean’s hand. “Oh, I uh, dropped it, when we were attacked in here.”

Dean looks at the amulet again, and hands it over to Cas, who is shaking his head. “No, no, you keep it. It’s yours. Well, it was his, and--”

“I don’t want it. You should have it,” Dean says.

He takes the necklace from Dean, and shoves it in his pocket, averting his eyes, trying to hide his excitement. “So what happened?”

Dean scrubs his face, unable to even think straight. So much has happened but he can’t think of anything else but Castiel. His Castiel. “Look, I will tell you everything, but first, please tell me you guys don’t have the same reaction to the Croatoan virus as the rest of us…”

Cas’ eyes widen, and he looks back and forth between Dean and Miriam. " _You_ guys?”

“You… and Cas. You and _my_   Cas.” Dean’s voice is shaking, and he’s doing all he can not to burst into tears. His angel’s life is in danger and he prays that _this_ Cas tells him what he wants to hear. What he needs to hear.

“He got bit?”

Dean nods, now unable to control the tears. Cas reaches out to him and places his hand on his arm. His face is sympathetic and Dean doesn’t need to hear the words he’s refusing to say, his reaction is giving him his answer.

And that is when Dean loses it.

He has no idea when he fell to his knees, but he’s on the floor, with Cas pulling him into a hug, and Dean is sobbing into his shoulder, not caring about how he looks, or what these guys must be thinking of him. Dean isn’t made of stone, and right now, his heart is aching in his chest, he thinks it’s literally breaking.

Nothing makes sense anymore. His life suddenly feels like a dream, or more like a nightmare. He isn’t even here at all, but in some fake reality where everything sucks and he loses everyone he loves. Of course, that _is_ very much his life, and now he just wants to crawl into a hole.

“Dean, I’m so… sorry,” Cas finally says, after a few minutes of Dean shaking in his arms.

Dean pulls away, looking at this other version of his angel, and he feels like his stomach twisting in his body. Soon the nausea kicks in, and he springs to his feet and runs outside, emptying his breakfast all over the grass. The world is spinning too fast and he needs to get off of it.

Vomiting seemed to bring him somewhat back down to earth, as if some of the pain and anxiety left his body the moment the bile hit the ground. Dean looks up to see Cas and Miriam approaching him. “He’s an angel. He’s not human. He’s an angel,” Dean says, on repeat.

Cas is saying something about angels being drained and succumbing to human vulnerabilities, but if there was some way Castiel could power up again, the virus will be gone. Dean begins to laugh, maniacally at that bit of information.

“It’s ‘cause of me… he’s losing his grace because of me.”

“What? That’s not possible, he--”

“You wanna know where we were, Cas? We got sucked into the sixties, and the only way home was to get a fucking bowl from guess who… Metatron. Yeah he was there too. And you wanna know what he told us?”

Cas is staring at him, shockingly. He remains silent so Dean could continue. “He said that because Cas was in love with me, he’s turning more human everyday. Because of me. Because of ME!”

Dean turns his back on them and curls his hands into fists, feeling the pain from his nails digging into his flesh, but he gives not a single fuck.

“That’s… oh my God.”

He doesn’t look at Cas but he's sure he's understanding why he lost his grace as well. Falling in love with a damn Winchester is a fucking curse. He thinks the only reason his Castiel was powered up again, after being drained all those years ago was because he was brought back.

This Cas had never died at the hands of Lucifer.

This Cas also lost his Dean. At that thought, he turns around. “Can we cure him?”

Cas shakes his head. “I- I don’t know. But, I do have the only powered up angel left, in the cellar.”

Dean’s heart accelerates. “Lucifer?”

Cas nods. We have him trapped so he's detained at the moment.” Cas moves closer to Dean. “I haven’t been totally honest with you.”

Dean chuckles, desperately forced. “Yeah, I know all about your plan with the _‘mark of Cain’ Dean._ We ran into him.”

“He’s here?” Cas looks quickly at Miriam, who is nodding, and then back at Dean.

“He’s with my Cas right now, taking care of him, since he’s immune to the virus.”

The former angel heads back towards the shack, turning to Dean. “Come on, let’s have a talk with him.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean tries to prepare himself for what he’s about to see. This won’t be Nick, this will be Sam, and he has to remind himself that it’s not his brother. His brother, in this reality, is gone. This is just the devil; the evil fallen archangel who has destroyed their lives. Who killed the Dean that lived here, and unleashed this damn virus onto the world.

Cas leads him down a shoddy staircase into a dank and dark cellar. Dripping water echoes throughout, giving off a creepy vibe. Against the far wall is a solid metal door with a small slot for a window. Dean immediately thinks of Bobby’s panic room.

“Bobby built this, before he--” Cas turns to Dean, stopping in his tracks. “It has the same functions as his panic room, but this is to hold Lucifer, specifically. It was a genius idea of his, and I can’t believe it actually worked.”

“Lucifer is in there,” Dean says, more of a statement than a question. He stares at the door, and a static electricity surrounds him. He glances down at his arms and notices the hair standing on end.

Cas nods. Dean swallows the lump in his throat and inches his way to the door, preparing himself for the onset of nausea that he expects to have once he sees his brother’s face in there. Too many times Sam had been confined in Bobby’s place, this seems like just one more time.

Except this isn’t Sam.

He closes his eyes before opening them to look through the small window, and there he is, chained up and looking not too pleased. When he sees Dean, his face brightens and he flashes a smile that makes his blood run cold.

“Dean…” Lucifer says, but Dean can’t hear him, he can only read his lips.

Turning around to Cas, he asks, “Is he able to do anything to me if I go in there?”

“No, but maybe _I_ should--”

“Let me. I want to talk to him.”

Cas places a hand on Dean’s shoulder and it makes him shiver, knowing that it’s not his own Castiel’s hand. “You know the drill with him. Don’t let him trick you. His tongue is pure venom.”

Dean nods, remembering all too well how the devil talks. How he manipulates, digging in and poking at just the right spot to make it hurt. “I gotta see if he’ll help Cas. I mean, it’s a long shot, but he’s our only hope.”

“He’ll want something in return. What can you possible offer? Dean don’t do anything stupid just to save Castiel.”

Dean’s blood begins to boil and his face feels like it’s on fire. _Just to save Castiel?_ Like this is not the most important thing on his mind right now. He turns to Cas and inhales, deeply, to calm himself down. “I’m just gonna talk to him.”

The clank of the metal is obnoxiously loud when Dean slides the locked bar back. He takes a quick glance at Miriam and then at Cas, and fakes a smile. Holding his breath, he opens the door, and slides inside, quickly, before closing it behind him.

He finds it hard to look at Lucifer, so he scans the small panic room, impressed with how well Bobby knew his stuff. There are sigils drawn on the ceiling, as not to allow whomever is inside to alter them in any way. The walls are glistening and Dean can only assume it’s salt in the paint.  Other wards, symbols cover the walls, high enough to be out of reach and a devil's trap sits at the doorway. 

“You’re not the Dean I’m looking for,” Lucifer says, crossing his arms, the chains loud as they rattle and echo throughout the small room. But it’s Sam’s voice, and Dean can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He just hopes whatever mojo is keeping Lucifer detained, endures.

“Yeah, well, I’m all you got right now.”

Lucifer’s eyebrows raise. “Oh, how so?”

“First things first. I need to know if you can heal Cas.”

Lucifer tilts his head to peer out the door, and then narrows his gaze on Dean. “He looks fine to me.”

Dean turns around, briefly, and then shakes his head. “No, not _that_ Cas. Mine.”

“You’re him,” Lucifer says, smirking. “You’re the Dean I met that day. You watched me kill… the other you.”

He sighs, trying to forget that scene. “Yes, I’m him and now I’m back, and I- I need you to fix my-Cas.” Dean’s words are strained and he curses at himself under his breath for showing any kind of emotion in front of this dick.

He doesn’t even really sound like Sam anymore. There’s such a difference, and he doesn’t care that he’s wearing his skin, there is zero resemblance. It’s funny how much of a person’s insides show through on the outside.

“Aw. You seem a little worried, there, Dean.”

“Can you or not?” Dean feels his pulse in his ears.

“What happened to him?”

He runs a hand through his hair, realizing now that he’s sweating like crazy. “He caught the virus. You know, that awesome one you’ve been spreading.”

Lucifer howls, throwing his head back, and the sound makes Dean want to rip his head off. “He’s an angel. Or is he like this Cas here, all used up and worn?”

“He’s drained. He-- can’t use his powers.”

“Say I do,” Lucifer opens his arms, "heal him. What do I get out of it? Just a pissed off angel coming after me?”

“What? You’re scared of angel with no mojo?” Dean sneers.

Lucifer moves closer to Dean, so he backs up, but then he just turns and takes a seat in the one chair provided for him. He crosses his legs and places his hands over his knee. “What will you give me in return, huh?”

Dean draws in a shaky breath and exhales as he says. “Dean. I will give you the _Dean_ you want.”

“Oh,” Lucifer’s eyebrows raise. “Now, this is getting interesting. He’s here?”

Dean only nods, not saying a word. Of course, he’s not going to hand over _that_ Dean to him, but Lucifer doesn’t need to know that. Lucifer adds, “How do I know you’re not lying?”

“You two are being drawn to each other right? Something to do with the mark? Yeah, he told me, and I know exactly where he is. Question is, if you’re the all powerful devil, why can’t you sense him?”

“Ah,” Lucifer uncrosses his legs and leans in, resting his elbows on his knees. “The mark is pulling us towards each other, but he can’t feel me and I can’t feel him. He’s invisible to me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the mark, or maybe,” he smiles, “the Darkness you unleashed.”

So, he knows about that. “You heard.”

“Dean, everyone between Heaven and Hell heard, in every dimension. The Darkness isn’t bound to just your world. It destroys everything, and when I say everything, I mean, ” he pauses. “Everything,” he says silently, only mouthing the words.

“So what do you want with the other Dean?”

He flashes a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “That’s for me to know, and you _not_ to find out.”

“Okay, then no deal,” Dean turns, hoping Lucifer doesn’t call his bluff.

“And let your… Castiel die? Have you seen what happens to humans when they’ve have that infection too long?” Lucifer clicks his tongue. “It’s nasty.” He shivers, dramatically.

His words cut through him like a knife, hitting the right spot that makes Dean want to break down again. Turning around to face the devil, he sighs, wondering if his mask is holding well. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s pretty sure Lucifer can read his body language.

“Good, so bring me Dean, and I’ll heal your friend.”

“No. Heal him first.”

Lucifer pouts playfully at him. “Noooo. You first.”

Dean grits his teeth and turns on his heel, not looking back when he leaves and slams the heavy metal door behind him. Cas and Miriam are waiting on bated breath for him to speak.

“He’ll do it,” Dean tells them, leaving out his side of the bargain. He finds it hard to even look in _this_ Cas’ eyes, even though Dean has no intention of screwing over the other version of himself. When he starts for the door, Cas grabs his arm, forcefully pulling him back.

“There is no way in hell I’m going to let you do what you’re about to do.”

_Cas and his extra powerful hearing._

Dean looks around, cautiously and peers at him, knowing full well Lucifer is staring at them. “I’ll do what I gotta to save my Cas. You can’t stop me,” he says, with fake intensity. He scurries to the door, giving them a wide eyed look that he hopes they will understand.

“I’ll explain outside,” he whispers, making sure he’s out of the devil’s view.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s too damn hot out there, and Dean can feel his clothes now sticking to him. He wipes his brow with his forearm and reaches into his bag for water. Swallowing what he has left, he makes eye contact with Cas, who is watching him, intensely.

“Calm down, I didn’t mean anything I said in there, except for me needing him to heal Cas.”

This Cas shakes his head. “You just made a deal with the devil, that you plan on reneging on. Do you have any idea how this is going to turn out? I need him for the mark, I need to be able to transfer the mark onto him, from the other Dean.” He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know I should have told you--”

“Yeah, you should have. But you didn’t. And now we came back here, just to make sure you were okay, you know, since we were hauled into a different fucking time period, and we had no idea if you guys were safe. We had no idea if it even worked.”

“Dean, I--”

“And you lied. You made us think we had to seal that portal tear because your life was in danger, when the whole time, you and _that_ Dean had this goddamned plan to heal him… why not just tell us that to begin with?”

Cas sighs, and takes a seat on the porch steps. “Because it was true, at first. I _was_ seeing that darker version of you, and he was trying to kill me, in my dreams that is. But then… then something changed, and we were able to communicate, like you and I did, and,” he looks down at his feet, “he asked me to help him.”

Dean feels choked up, seeing that whole scene in his head. He sits down next to the former angel, hearing him out, it’s the least he could do. Cas continues, “He practically begged me. His world has been shattered, Dean. He lost Sam, his own Cas, and he’s half out of his mind. That mark is killing him, or rather turning him into a demon. He wants to die, Dean. I’ve never seen you-- I mean, any version of you that low.”

“So that’s it,” Dean chuckles. “You’re sentimental over the whole thing. You lost your Dean and now that another one came to you, you can’t help yourself.”

Cas turns his head. “Wouldn’t you do the same?”

Dean looks into his eyes and frowns. He came to another dimension to help another version of his best friend, and who the hell is Dean to judge. Focusing now on the woods ahead of them, he sighs.

“Hell, I guess I did do the same.” He softens. “I just would have liked the truth.”

“I’m so sorry Dean. I truly am. And now, what’s happening, is all my fault.”

He would love to sit here and blame _this_ Cas for everything, but it won’t get them any further in helping his own Cas, so he brushes his legs off and rises. “You need _that_ Dean to be near Lucifer, to transfer the mark, right?” Cas nods.

“Okay, so let’s go get him.”

“Wait, Dean,” Cas grabs his arm. “What about _him_? We can’t have him near, I mean, I know this sounds awful but, I can’t risk him attacking one of us.”

Dean’s breathe is shallow when he pictures what state Castiel is in right now. As his heart races, he swallows, nervously, hoping he doesn’t have a panic attack. “We’ll figure it out on the way.”

 

* * *

 

“I’ve been keeping him unconscious. He’s gonna wake up with a hell of a headache,” the other Dean tells them as they approach.

“Yeah, well, that’s the least of my worries.” Dean lowers himself to his knees to get a good look at his angel. The skin around his eyes is red and swollen, and it looks almost unreal against his pale skin. Dean’s breath hitches as he looks away, unable to even believe this is really happening.

“Dean…” The other Cas says, and Dean turns to him. He’s not talking to _him_ , but his counterpart.

“Cas, you’re here.” The other Dean says.

 _"You’re_ here,” Cas smiles.

Dean just watches the two interact, and it’s pretty intense to see. Cas is elated, and the way he’s looking at this other Dean gives him butterflies in his stomach. Dean knows that look pretty well, from his own Cas.

And they step away from the group, speaking privately, and he wonders what is going to happen to them, now. Will they end up together? Will _that_ Dean finally give into his feelings once the mark is removed?

Having that curse, there was no way in hell he could have started anything with Castiel at that time. His mind was too twisted, too messed up to even entertain it. He pushed his angel away, he pushed Sam away, and he wasn’t even that close with Charlie.

A world of regret burdens him, but there’s something about seeing these two together, it’s reminding him that second chances are possible. They're real. And he’s been given one with his own Castiel.

And so he needs to fix him.

“So, can we get this ball rolling?” Dean says to the group.

The other Dean and Cas turn to him, cutting their conversation short. “Yes, I think this will work.”

He rises to his feet. “What will work?”

“Right now, Chuck should be on his way back. He’s bringing more information on Cain, so we can get a better understanding of the mark, since Lucifer isn’t bothering to offer any.”

“Okay, and so?”

“Then we will transfer the mark back to him, and we think… we think in doing so, the Darkness will be contained once again.”

He’s never heard better news. “Really?”

Cas nods. “Yes. I’ve been doing a lot of research on it, combining that with the little knowledge I had on the subject when I was still in Heaven’s good graces, and since Lucifer was the chosen one to bear the mark containing the Darkness, then it should all go back to him. Even if it was unleashed in your world, as you know, it doesn’t matter--”

“It will destroy everything,” Dean repeats Lucifer’s words.

“Yes.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” the other Dean says, as he helps him lift the unconscious Castiel.

As they head back to the shack, he realizes how that his nerves are shot. He’s overstressed, on the brink of a full fledged meltdown, but when he looks at his angel, he knows he has to be strong. For him.

And this feels like the hardest thing he’s ever had to endure, and he’s had his fair share of heartache. It’s the not knowing that’s killing him, just like the day in the hospital room when Sam was near death from doing the trials.

All Dean could do was stand there and be utterly useless, and this time, he won’t let himself lose his shit. He will keep it all together, get his angel back, and finally finish what they came for. If the other Cas is right, and the Darkness will be contained again after this, then it was all worth it.

Some kind of kismet, really, for him to start having dreams about _him_ , to come help, and then to return, right when he figured out what transferring the mark back to Lucifer could do.

“He kept begging me to kill him, you know, when he’d come to,” his counterpart tells him, and the news makes him queasy.

“Glad you didn’t,” Dean jokes, trying his hardest not to vomit all over himself. He’s remembering his Castiel now, over him, his fists slamming against his head, and asking Dean to kill him. He blinks a few times hoping that image will leave his mind.

“He knows what’s going on with him, I think he just doesn't want to hurt any of you guys.”

Dean looks at the other version of himself. “If this all works, then I owe you.”

The other Dean laughs. “Nah, this is Cas, man. And I can tell, the way you’re… you guys are not just friends, am I right?”

Dean shakes his head and opens his mouth to speak but then Miriam distracts him as she calls out for Chuck. Dean looks ahead to see the prophet standing at the door of the shack with a few books in his arms.

“Hey guys, and wow, okay, so I’m seeing double, here,” he muses.

The two Deans lay Castiel down on the floor of the main room, placing Dean’s duffel under his head for support. He looks up at his counterpart and the rest, waiting for their word. The other Cas nods and turns to Chuck.

“So, were we right?”

“I think so.” Chuck looks down at the sleeping Castiel. “What happened to him?”

“Long story,” the other Dean and Cas chorus, much to all of their amusement.

“Okay, first things first, Lucifer said he will heal Cas, as long as _he_ was here,” Dean says, motioning at the other Dean. “So, I think you should show your face, let him know you’re here.”

The other Dean glances at Cas, who nods at him. Soon, both Deans are heading down to the cellar. It’s weird, being there with this other Dean, a version of him that he’d like to forget. And it’s equally weird seeing it in a third person view. He appears normal, like it’s any other day, but he can also sense that deep seeded angst.

It’s not obvious to someone who doesn’t know what to look for, but Dean sees it. He feels it. It’s this certain hint of chaos behind his eyes, and what he would give to never have to be reminded of this part of him ever again.

He’s happy _this_ Dean is getting cured, and instead of unleashing that amoral energy, it will put it back in its place. What a better fucking ending than his was.

“Holy shit, I don’t think I’m ready for this,” the cursed hunter says to Dean.

“Just remember, it’s not Sammy.”

Dean watches his counterpart walk up to the door and show his face. He can’t see Lucifer’s reaction but then a second later, he holds up his arm, bearing the mark. Suddenly, there’s a loud rumble coming from above, and Dean looks up, seeing the ceiling shaking, pieces of concrete and dust falling.

He immediately runs upstairs, focusing on the loud hollering coming from his angel. He has no idea what he’s about to see, but then once he reaches the last step and peeks his head out, Castiel… his Castiel is sitting up and looking around the room.

The other Cas and Miriam are covering their heads but then soon he sees them defacing the angel wards, and that's when Dean realizes what just happened.

“Cas?”

Castiel nods, blinking rapidly as he takes in his surroundings. “I- what--” He’s running his hands down his chest, and then finally looks at Dean. The redness around his eyes is gone. His face, back to the color it once had, and Dean feels like he could cry.

“How do you feel?”

His eyes flicker as he stares at Dean, and when he forces out a small smile, it makes his stomach flip. “I’m okay. I’m-- my powers, they’re back, but how?”

Dean swallows, sighing and resting his head on Castiel’s shoulder. “Holy shit, thank God.”

“Not God, the devil,” Miriam says.

Castiel looks up at her as Dean just stares at him. His angel, his Castiel is back and he doesn’t give a rat’s ass who is responsible for it.  “What?”

A loud crash is heard from downstairs, and they all jump. Hippy Cas is scanning the room, wide eyed. “Where’s the other Dean?”

Dean looks around as well. “I thought he ran up here with me, I thought--”

“Fuck!” Cas shouts, and then Dean looks at his own Castiel who seems utterly confused.

“They have Lucifer down there, and he wanted to see Dean, the other Dean… he-he promised to heal you.”

Castiel doesn't have time to respond before they all run downstairs to see what the commotion is. The first thing Dean notices is that the panic room door is wide open, and that’s when he feels his stomach turn.

“This can’t be good,” he groans.

Inside, Lucifer has the other Dean by the throat, holding him up against the wall. He turns to look at him and his smile seems to cut through him like a knife. “Thanks, Dean. Really. I could not have done it without you. Having good ole Dean Winchester with _my_ mark, well, talk about the world spinning off its axis... The end of the world never looked so good."

Lucifer looks at Castiel. “I see you’re all better now.”

“Dean…” Castiel says, moving next to him. “What’s the plan?”

Dean’s counterpart is trying to talk, but Lucifer’s grip is just too tight. Finally, Dean can make out the words, “Do it now,” and when he turns to the other Cas, he sees that he got the message too. At that moment, Cas takes out a book and begins reciting something in Enochian.

And that’s when Lucifer turns dark. So dark, that Dean actually finds himself reaching for Castiel’s hand.

“What are you doing?!” he shouts at them.

It all happens so suddenly, Dean doesn’t even know what he’s looking at. There’s a blinding light, followed by red smoke, and he watches the mark slither off of Dean, like a snake, and move to Lucifer’s arm, burning into his skin.

He’s hollering, shouting, and he lets the other Dean go, causing him to fall to the floor. He's coughing, clutching his throat, and Cas is immediately at his side. The thunderous roar filling the room fades and he watches Lucifer fall down, backwards, seemingly out like a light.

“Did it work?” Miriam asks.

At that moment, Cas leaves the other Dean’s side and glances at Castiel. He races over to him and snatches something out of his other hand, and Dean sees it’s an angel blade. He has an idea of what’s going to happen next, but he doesn’t do anything about it. Cas has a personal vendetta against his brother. He killed his Dean, he unleashed hell on earth, and it’s time to end it.

Cas inhales deeply. “Close your eyes,” and sinks the blade into Lucifer’s chest. Castiel wraps his arms around Dean, bringing his head in his chest as the blinding light fills the room. There is a gust of wind that almost knocks him down but his angel holds him tightly.

It feels like an explosion, and energy blasting him, but it’s not as painful as he expected it to be. When he finally opens his eyes, he sees Lucifer, lying still with his wings charred into the floor, spreading out far from him. There is a slight crackling, and a light smoke coming from them, and Dean’s mesmerized.

He’s seen angels die, but this… this is Lucifer. The lightbringer. The fallen angel. And now he’s dead. Dean is surprised Cas took this route- he had no idea he would end up killing him, but Dean’s glad he did. Now, he can rebuild this place, hopefully get civilization back on its feet, and he’ll have this other Dean here with him, and that’s pretty damn amazing.

It all feels complete. Like a job that had been taking years to finish is finally done. He thinks back to when he first saw Lucifer, and he remembers thinking that he really had no idea how in the hell they were going to ice the devil.

When the Colt didn’t work, when the only option was for Sam to say ‘yes’ to him, Dean had to give in to the feeling of losing. They weren’t going to win, no matter if Sam’s plan worked, because by it working, he was losing his brother.

He doesn’t know why this Sam said yes all those years ago, or why the Dean from here refused to find his little brother and reunite with him. It’s true that they are stronger together than they are apart and he wishes that they would have figured that out in this existence.

Dean was given the opportunity to see how this world would have turned out, and it wasn’t just witnessing how everything went to shit once Sam said yes, it was showing him bad things could get if he and Sam were not united.

His counterpart is panting on the floor when hippy Cas runs to him, helping him up. They exchange a look of relief and then both Deans make eye contact. He can tell he’s back to normal. No more curse. No more dark energy radiating from him, and they smile at each other.

“Dean, can you and Cas stay for a while?” The other Cas asks him.

Dean nods, looking at his Castiel. It's hard for him to focus on anything right now, because of what just happened. Cas was about to die, Lucifer had gotten loose, and now he's dead, Cas is okay, and it all happened so damn fast.

No twists in the end. It's over. Spending some time here might be a good thing, because he sure as hell would like to know how this plan worked to begin with.  “Sure. Sam is expecting us back in three days, anyway.”

He smiles at him. “Great.” turning to Chuck he says, “Let’s get to the jeep and get the hell out of here.”


	20. Chapter 20

It’s weird. He’s not going to lie. Sitting in Cas’ cabin with his counterpart, and his own angel’s counterpart is a little unsettling, but at the same time, he’s getting a kick out of seeing those two - the other Cas and Dean - hit it off.

The way they lean into each other, the deep soulful stares, and it’s funny seeing it from the outside. The whole time, all he could think of is, “Is that how we always looked?”

That being said, his Castiel has been distant since the ride back. He’s barely even making eye contact with Dean, and for now, he’ll write it off to the aftermath of almost becoming a damn zombie, but if this goes on any longer, he thinks they will have to have a talk.

It’s also not that Dean hasn’t seen this coming. Castiel is at full power now, and that means he’s probably not into the whole affection thing anymore. In fact, he has never seen Castiel being warm and fuzzy while being fully juiced -not in all the years he’s known him. Does he love Dean? Of course. But he’s pretty sure that is where it will stay now.

But then again, he could be totally wrong and reading way too into this. Castiel is also different now, being a powered up angel or not. _They_ are different. Maybe they don’t have to go back to the way it has been for the past seven years.

Yet if they do... go back, if this is it for them, then he’ll respect that. It will suck and Dean will probably be sad as hell, but it’s not like Castiel will be going anywhere. They’ll still be close, still be friends, just not in a physical way. Now, he only has to convince himself that this isn’t really what’s happening and his angel is just a little worn out from everything that’s happened.

Hippy Cas practically throws them out so he could be alone with his new Dean, so they make their way to their cabin, walking in silence up those steps and inside the familiar dwelling. They take turn showering, and already Dean’s a little disappointed that Castiel didn’t offer to join him. He pads over to the kitchen, finding a bag of chips and some beer in the refrigerator, and plops down on the bed, while Castiel sits in a chair by the window.

He’s staring outside - probably at nothing, and it’s unnerving how he seems a million miles away from him. He hates this. He hates not knowing what’s going on in his angel’s head, but at the same time, he’s afraid,  _so fucking_ afraid to bring it up.

He’s avoiding the 'talk'. He doesn’t want to hear that they have to go back to being platonic, that the romance is gone, and even if he does want him here and there (which he knows is true since Castiel had even admitted that to him not too long ago), it’s not enough to keep a relationship like the one they started, going.

Dean isn’t dumb, and he’s not clueless when it comes to matters of the heart. He may not have been in many deep relationships before, but he knows when they’ve run its course and the sick feeling in his stomach is telling him that this is what's happening to them now.

He’s cursing himself for coming back here, because if not, Castiel would never have been bitten by a damn Croat, and he wouldn't be twitchy right now, but at the same time, he knows how fucking selfish that is. They saved the damn world... no wait, _two_ worlds, and he shouldn’t expect some kind of reward for it. This is what he does, since he can remember, and the prize at the end was just knowing he did the right thing.

“You know, the bed is a lot more comfortable, Cas.”

He has to test it, just to see. Will Castiel join him? Will he choose to remain on the goddamn opposite side of the room? He wants to yell, shout, cry out for some answers, or some fucking conversation, but he remains silent while he watches Castiel turn to him, his face plagued with sadness.

_Fuck._

“This trip has been a wild ride, Dean.”

_Ah, he speaks._

“Yeah, tell me about it. Care to do that over here, though?”

Castiel sighs and rises from his chair, making his way over to the bed. Dean’s heart is beating hard in his chest, and it’s so loud, he wonders if Castiel can hear it. He watches him sit on the edge, one leg off the side and scoot his body until his back is against the wall.

“Wow, I don’t bite, you know. Unless you want--”

“Dean…”

“What? What’s up with you? You’ve been so… I don’t know, quiet or some shit.”

He turns to face Dean, his body moving with him. “I almost turned into a monster, Dean. I also could have killed you in the process.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t and you’re fine now.” Dean inhales, shakily. He’s not sure where this conversation is headed, but he hopes this is all that’s bothering Castiel.

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point, Cas? Enlighten me.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow at him. “Lucifer gave me my powers back. He helped me.”

Dean chuckles. “Yeah, after I made a deal with him to hand over the ‘Mark of Cain-Dean’. So what, Cas? He’s not your savior or anything. He is the fucking devil. Or _was_ , in this case.”

When Castiel looks away, Dean reaches out and touches his cheek, but his angel flinches. He lowers his hand, now knowing that this isn’t all that’s troubling him and his stomach won’t stop flipping. “Cas?”

"Another deal with the devil..."

Dean's nostrils flare as he tries to control his breathing. "It wasn't a deal, I was lying to him."

Castiel's face is hard, and it's making Dean furious. This is the Castiel he met all those years ago, the obedient angel of the Lord with this stiffness that he wishes he didn't have to see right now.

"He could have killed you, and it would have been because of me, and once again, we're back to the same situation." Castiel sighs, and closes his eyes briefly, before opening them up to glare at Dean.

He continues, “Being drained is dangerous. Being human is dangerous. For all of us.”

Dean snickers, and shakes his head. “You’re kidding right?”

“No, why would I be kidding?”

He rolls his eyes. “Because this isn’t about you being juiced or not. This is about you being too fucking scared to be anything other than an angel.”

Dean has no idea where this is coming from, or why he even said it, and the way Castiel is looking at him right now, he wishes he can take it back. But it's the reality of this situation, from Dean's perspective.

Castiel says he's fine with being drained, but when something dramatic happens, when one of their lives is threatened, he changes his tune because he really has no idea how to deal it. 

He remembers Cas' guilt whenever they would lose someone and he didn't have enough mojo to resurrect. He remembers Charlie, and how his angel walked around with this burden on his shoulders from not only working with her on that damn book, but that he couldn't bring her back. 

“That’s not true, Dean.”

“Yeah? Well since you’ve been ‘All Powerful Cas’ you’ve been distant and acting really fucking weird. You barely said one thing to the other Cas and Dean, and fuck, you didn’t even say one word to Miriam - who by the way, risked her life for you.”

His face is on fire, his heart racing, and he wishes this conversation would just disappear. He doesn't want to fight with Castiel. He just got him back after being sick, on his way to either dying or becoming a zombie, and this isn’t how he wants to celebrate the fact that they’re all alive, Lucifer is dead, and the fucking Darkness is gone.

They should be laughing, having a damn party, even if it’s just the two of them. They should be making love and melting into each other right about now. They should be lying in that bed, face to face, promising the future to each other.

Instead, they're awkward as fuck and arguing. Nice.

“I just have a lot on my mind.”

Dean barks. “Yeah, well, wanna share with the class?”

“I just did!” Castiel asserts, loudly at that, making Dean jump.

“Whoa, there. What the hell, Cas?”

Castiel shakes his head and lowers his eyes. “Sorry.” Looking back up at Dean, his eyebrows arch. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“Cas,” Dean softens, resting his hands on top of Cas’ and he doesn’t flinch, which is a good sign. “We almost die practically on a weekly basis. Why is this different?”

“Because that’s not all.” Castiel slides his hands from under Dean’s and rises from the bed, his back to him. He stands there, frozen for a few more seconds before turning around. “I think you and Sam would benefit more if I was always at full power.”

His words are low, but Dean can hear them loud and clear. “And? Your mojo is back now, so?”

“But it won’t always be.” Castiel walks over to the window. Without looking at Dean, he says, “I will be drained again, because--”

“Because you’re in love with me,” Dean finishes for him.

He gets it now. He knows what’s troubling his angel, and this isn’t just about losing intimacy between them, this is about him refusing to see past his own holy persona. He thinks being an angel is all he can be, to keep him safe, and Dean just wants to laugh. Or cry.

“So, what are you saying, Cas? ‘Cause last time I checked, you were okay with… you know, being in love with me,” Dean says, his cheeks heated.

“I’m saying that as long as I feel this way, I will lose my powers, and then I won’t be able to… if something happens, and--”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Dean says as he rises from the bed, walking over to Cas. “You think the only way you can help out is when you have your mojo? Look around, Cas? You see a hell of a lot of people here doing just fine without having a lick of power. Look at this other Cas...”

He’s averting his eyes and Dean wishes he could just grab him and shake some sense into him. “I’m pretty sure he regretted it when he watched _his_ Dean die.”

“Holy shit.” Dean begins to pace, now feeling like he wants to puke. Or punch something. “You can’t control everything around you. Some people die. That’s not something new, and guess what? Most people don’t have angels sitting on their shoulders, ready to zap them back to life whenever they feel like it.”

Cas’ eyes are watery, the moonlight from outside reflecting off of them. If this hurts Castiel so much, why are they even talking about it? He watches his angel move back to the bed and fall down into it, his face long and sad.

“You should sleep.”

Does he keep arguing with him? For the rest of the night, does he try to talk to him about this? Maybe convince him that he’s wrong, that powerless Cas is just as important to him as angel Cas? He joins him in the bed and slides under the covers, hoping Castiel will move a little closer to him.

“You just gonna watch me sleep?”

Castiel looks down at him, still sitting up in bed, his back against the wall. “Yes.”

Dean closes his eyes, fighting off the urge to cry, but doing a lousy job of it. Tears escape and he quickly scrubs his face before Castiel notices. “So, you’re just gonna… stop loving me?”

As soon as those words leave his mouth, he feels his heart split in two. The aching in his chest is unbearable and now he’s not only sad as hell, he‘s angry. Angry for letting himself get to this point, for letting Castiel in, only for him to back out at the last second. Angry at himself for loving this son of a bitch - this angel who is now turning Dean into a blubbering idiot.

But that's what he’s saying, isn’t it? That as long as he’s in love with Dean, his powers will fade, and since he doesn't want that to happen…

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

Dean draws in a breath, and pulls Castiel down by the shoulders so that he’s lying down. His angel’s face is hard, cold, and he knows it’s just his mask, his armour. “Then what…”

“I don’t know.”

“Then can you just sleep on it? We can figure things out tomorrow,” Dean tells him, forcing Castiel’s arm to wrap around him.

“I don’t need sleep.”

“Then just pretend to, okay?”

Castiel nods, offering Dean a small smile and it’s all Dean needs right now. He doesn't want him to make stupid decisions after dealing with a traumatic and exhausting day. Their minds need rest, and even if his angel doesn’t sleep, he needs time and relaxation to think things through. Because if not, it really sounds like Castiel is ready to leave him and Dean isn’t going to hear that. Not now.

And so Castiel finally settles in, taking Dean into his arms, so that Dean’s head can rest on his chest and it’s making him feel okay again. Enough to let his eyes close and let his brain shut off for the night so that he can finally get some much needed sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

The next couple of days aren’t any better, with Castiel being distant, and the others are picking up on something being wrong. When Miriam asks Dean about it, he shrugs it off, explaining to her that Castiel is just still a little shaken about everything that’s happened. He can tell she doesn’t buy a word of it, but she lets it go, not trying to dig for more information, and Dean’s thankful for that.

He doesn’t want to talk about it, with anyone. He doesn't want to say that Castiel is thinking of leaving Dean. That he thinks being around him, being in love with him, is a curse. That even if there is the slightest possibility that he could somehow fall _out_ of love, it will make everyone safer.

For an angel who’s older than dirt, he sure is an idiot, sometimes.

But Dean doesn't talk about it with Castiel either, as they said they would. They just go about their day, with the other Cas and Dean, and Chuck on occasion. They eat, listen to stories, talk about things they’ve done in their own world. And when the others wanted to hear more about Woodstock, Dean found it almost impossible to discuss.

One of the greatest adventures they had been on, and talking about it now cuts like a knife. He’s seeing Castiel now, telling him how happy he is, that being in love with Dean is worth it all, and now Dean wants to punch him in the face for lying to him.

Because it’s not worth anything. He’d rather leave him, just so he can remain an goddamned angel, and that fact alone is devastating to him.

When it’s finally time to go home, Dean is thankful. Seeing this other Cas and Dean so close and obviously so in love is making his own heart ache for what he used to have with his own Castiel.

He did catch his angel watching them, intensely on occasion, and he wonders if he thought the same thing as Dean: that they don’t need mojo, or the ability to resurrect or heal, because being together is better than all of that. Being together is bringing them both back to life, in a way.

Saying goodbye is a little hard, but he’s also so happy for them. They get to live their life together, no more Lucifer, no more crap. Their world will be put back to normal and he’s at least grateful that he was a part of making that happen.

When Miriam pulls Dean into a hug, she holds him tightly, bring her mouth to his ear. “Give him time. He’s confused. He loves you very much and that love will always win with you two,” she whispers. Pulling back, she smiles at him. “It always does.”

Dean tries to smile, despite being brought to tears. He doesn’t agree or disagree with her, but he feels in his heart that she’s right. The world has tried to tear them apart so many times, and never truly succeeded. Dean and Castiel have always found their way back. Castiel will remember this, and he’ll realize that being together is how they both save each other.

Once they perform the ritual, they’re sucked into the portal and thrown back into his room, where Sam is waiting eagerly for them. He greets them both with a big hug. “So glad it worked this time!”

Dean smiles, or at least tries to as Castiel just heads out of the room. Sam watches in disbelief and narrows his gaze on his older brother. “What happened?”

He looks down. “I wish I knew.”

 

* * *

 

Sleeping alone sucked last night and Dean decides to make his way to the kitchen after waking up feeling like crap. He looks at the coffee maker and then the contents of the refrigerator, and loses his appetite. He shouldn’t be acting like a jilted lover, like a lovesick teen who can’t function after a breakup, but he also can’t help it.

And is that what happened? Did they… break up? Did they even have anything to break up from? Was Castiel just testing the waters, wondering what it felt like to be with him, and now that he knows, he doesn’t need him anymore? Was this just some life lesson for the angel?

Dean finds himself in fists until it hurts, so he loosens his hands, stretching out his fingers, and decides to make some coffee. Fuck it. He’s not going to stop living just because Cas is a little confused. If he figures it out… _when_ he figures it out, Dean will be here, but in the meantime, life still needs to go on.

“Did Cas say where he was going?”

Dean turns to Sam, shaking his head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, his room is empty. He’s not anywhere in the bunker.”

The kitchen begins to spin a little. “No. He’s all fixed now, he probably just flew away somewhere, you know, like he used to.”

The heaviness he feels is starting to take its toll on him. His head is cloudy, and he’s unable to focus on anything right now, except for Cas and his fucking disappearing act.

God, he hated when Cas used to do that; disappear for days, weeks, and Dean would have no fucking idea where he was or when he’d be back.

“What the hell happened between you two?”

Dean shakes his head, filling up the carafe. “Don’t know, Sammy. I guess Cas just wants his space, fuck if I know why.”

“Space? The guy is madly in love with you. What the hell would he want space for?”

“I don’t know, Sam!” Dean says strongly and a lot louder than he intended. He clenches his jaw and then breathes in a deeply. “I just don’t know,” he says, more quietly. He’s pretty sure Sam takes the hint to shut the fuck up about it, and so his brother changes the subject to a possible case in Sioux Falls, after getting a call from Jody.

Dean just nods, half listening while he makes his coffee, his mind a million miles away.

 

It gets even worse for the next few days, when Castiel still doesn’t return. Dean had even texted him, wondering if he still had that cell phone he’d given him, but he never got a reply. He wasn’t really expecting one anyway. If Castiel is gone, then he’s gone. There’s no talking someone out of leaving. If they want to be away from you, then you can’t change their mind. Or their heart.

And on the seventh day of Cas being gone, Dean starts to mourn. Mourn for their relationship, the tender moments they shared, the revealing and beautiful words exchanged. He’s missing holding his hand, and making love, right here in this bed the first night they came back from the sixties.

Dean is sitting in up, legs stretched out and crossed on his bed, his iPod next to him. He puts his earbuds in and presses play, floating away to the Beatles song, _Blackbird._ All he can think of is him and Cas, being close, kissing, those blue eyes sparkling when he says, “I love you,” and Dean now feels tears streaming down his face. He stares at the stupid angel statue with its stupid blue gem eyes and he clenches his jaw, fighting off the urge to smash it. 

It’s not fair. How dare he let himself fall so deep? He shouldn’t have ever taken that step with Cas. They should have just remained friends, and Dean would have been a lot happier just fantasizing about what _could_ happen. Anything is better than this hole in his heart, this empty void where Cas used to be. It's ridiculous too, because he's been without his angel for a lot longer than a damn week, but he also knows that this is a hell of a lot different than all of those times. 

They were together, like really together. They were having a great time, seeing new things as a couple. Trying new things as well. He fucking told Cas he loved him and those words have never left his mouth unless it was to his mother.

Dean really thought this was it. Castiel will be his one and only. And with his powers faded, they would possibly grow old together, and now Dean want to slap his own face for being so goddamned naive. The stupid bouquet from Sadie and Delilah's wedding sits on his desk and now his chest is on fire.

Maybe this is what Cas really needed. If Dean can take a step back and try to see things from his angel's perspective, this is all he's known for eons. Castiel, the angel of the Lord. Maybe, even though he's been living years down here with Humanity, he really just needed to be juiced up again. To feel whole again. To have his wings back.

He closes his eyes, focusing on the lyrics: “... _all your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free.”_

Suddenly there’s a loud whoosh and he swears he hears wing beats. When Dean opens his eyes, Cas is standing at the foot of his bed. Dean rips the earbuds out and sits up straighter. “Cas?”

Castiel is back in his suit, his trenchcoat clean again, as it always magically gets when he’s powered up. “Hello, Dean.”

“H-- hello Dean?" Dean repeats Cas' words. "Where they hell have you been?”

“Thinking.”

Dean opens his arms.“About?”

Cas answers him by raising his eyebrows.

“Great.” Dean shakes his head, sliding out of bed. “Come to finish our conversation about why you can’t love me anymore? Why being with me is wrong, why--”

“Dean--”

He walks over to him. “No, come on, Cas. Get it all out. I can take it, I’m a big boy.”

“That’s not why-- Dean, I came here to talk to you about what we discussed the other day, but not… I don’t want to…”

“Spit it out, Cas.”

Castiel looks down and then his eyes slowly rise to meet Dean’s. Of course, now Dean is speechless, because one look from him, especially when he looks all puppy dog like, and Dean is a big pile of mush.

“You were right.”

“About?”

Castiel moves closer. “I can’t base my existence on being your protector. On being your angel. I-- I have never felt more of what I am until I was with you.” Castiel turns away and moves to the edge of the bed, where he sits. Looking down at his hands he continues.

“I never wanted anything bad to happen to you boys, I always felt that when I was at my best, I could make sure you were safe. And if you got hurt, or worse, I’d be there to make it better.”

Dean sits beside him. “Cas, you have always been so much more to me than just that…”

Castiel turns his head to look at him. “I know.”

“Where have you been?”

“All around. Heaven. Earth.”

“Heaven?” Dean can’t even think of a reason why Castiel would be up there.

“Yes. I needed some answers. I needed to find out if what Metatron said was true.”

Dean leans in, resting his elbows on his knees. “And?”

“He was right. As long as I’m in love with a human... with you, I will lose my powers.”

When Castiel says that, Dean was expecting more sorrow on his face, but this time, he doesn't seem at all bothered by it. There’s no stress behind his words, no deep seeded regret. “So, what does this mean. For us?”

Castiel turns his body and takes hold of Dean’s hand. “It means, I’m sorry.”

Dean swallows the lump in his throat. “S-sorry for what?”

“For confusing you. For confusing us. I… I was still shaken about what happened. I felt miserable at being distant with you, Dean, but I was also so torn." He looks down, and Dean notices his hand is actually shaking. He squeezes it, urging Cas to continue. "I hurt you, while being infected. It was like, I knew what was happening, I knew what I was doing, but I had no control over it."

"Cas..."

"And what if it got worse, what if--"

"It has been worse Cas. Remember Naomi? Remember beating on me in the crypt?"

Castiel looks away, but Dean urges him to look at him. "You were a full blown angel, Cas, and shit still happened."

"This was different, Dean. I- the love between us was able to break that control before anything more permanent happened. But last week, I would have killed you, or infected you, and there would be no way to stop it.”

“But you didn’t Cas.”

Cas bites his bottom lip. “Being vulnerable like that… it scared me, Dean. Not for my own life, but what I could do to you, or Sam. I’d have no way of healing you, or bringing you back if you--”

“Enough, Cas.”

His angel looks up at him, tilting his head. Dean continues. “I’ve been living my entire life this way. No get out of jail free cards. Sure, you came into our lives and gave us that, and trust me, I’m not complaining, or ungrateful, but things change, Cas. People change. So what if you’re a regular joe. If you’re one of us. I need you either way.”

Castiel cracks a small smile, making the butterflies in Dean’s stomach go crazy. “It’s not just that,” he says, his smile fading fast. “I don’t know how long this will last, how long I will have my powers, and while I do, I’m afraid I won’t be… I can’t--”

“Have sex?”

"It's not just the sex, it's everything we've been doing. What if because my instincts aren't the same as when I'm human, I fall short.

“So?”

“So… you deserve more, Dean."

“I deserve to be with the one I love,” he says and it makes Castiel blush. “See, you’re blushing, that’s a very human thing, right there.”

Castiel chuckles, locking his eyes on Dean’s. “I will never stop loving you. That idea is even too foolish to entertain.”

Dean grins, feeling the room brighten a little. “And you’ll lose your mojo again. Big deal, right?”

“Well it is, _actually_ , a big deal.”

“Yeah, yeah I know but, you told me when we were at Woodstock that you’re cool with it. Don’t make me hate that memory of us, Cas, ‘cause I swear that was probably the greatest moment I ever had with you.”

“Oh, Dean, “ Castiel shakes his head. “I meant every word.”

“Okay, then. Stop stressing about it. Would you really be happier away from me?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then you’ll stay?”

Castiel nods, and Dean swears he sees tears in his eyes. “Then it’s settled. And Cas,” Dean reaches for his face and thumbs away a tear from his angel’s cheek. “Tears are also very human.”

He smiles at Dean, lowering his head and taking hold of Dean’s hand. “I guess it is.” Looking back up at Dean, he leans forward and kisses him. He feels those sparks again, tingling little bits of electricity, and he can tell Cas feels them too, when he smiles against his lips.

“See?” Dean says when they pull apart. “Maybe you’re just over thinking it.”

Castiel kisses him again, this time with more passion, taking Dean’s face in his hands. They fall back on the bed, Dean chuckling. “Y’know, I’m okay with just talking. If you’re not into this sort of thing right now, it’s totally cool.”

“Maybe,” Cas kisses him again, “I don’t want to just talk.”

“You sure?”

Castiel nods with a smile. Soon, they’re kissing again, and it’s getting hotter, their desire obviously taking over. Dean’s floating, realizing that it doesn’t even matter what they’re doing, as long as they're together, but being able to be close again, wrapped in each other like this is a blessing in and of itself.

Dean flips them over and rests in between Cas’ legs, starting on his trenchcoat. Cas sits up to help him remove it, along with his suit jacket. He then moves up his body, his fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt.

“We can go slow,” Dean tells him, to which Castiel smiles in muted agreement.

And he does take it slow, undoing each button, one by one, kissing the exposed flesh, nibbling his nipples. Castiel is letting out soft moans, motivating Dean to continue. Once his chest is bare, Dean works on his belt, sliding down to kiss his stomach as he does so. Castiel hums when Dean begins to kiss his thighs once his pants are off, moving back up to his stomach, licking the hairline beneath his navel.

“Oh, Dean…”

His angel is hard, and Dean looks down at it, smiling at his accomplishment. He takes him in his hand, stroking slowly as he circles his tongue on the tip. Cas is hissing now, bucking up, so Dean begins to suck him, pressing his tongue firmly on the base as his mouth moves down and then up, drawing in his cheeks as he wraps his lips around the swollen head.

Dean’s already removing his jeans and t-shirt, all while keeping Castiel in his mouth. Dean moves faster, and then Cas tenses under him, his cock stiffening even harder in his mouth as he comes, and he drinks him in, tasting his sweet angel.

“Dean,” Cas whispers as Dean crawls up his body to meet his lips. “I want--” Dean kisses him as Castiel tries to talk in between panting. “More…”

He looks down to see that Castiel is far from being done, so he strokes him, making him even harder. “I can do that,” Dean tells him.

Not only was Castiel afraid he wouldn’t be able to do this while being angel, he’s ready for round two and Dean wants to laugh. All this stress this week over nothing. He could slap him, but that can wait, you know, when they’re in the mood to slap each other’s asses.

His angel cracks a small smile. “I want to have it all with you, Dean.” He kisses him, and Dean lets him. “I used to think that intimacy, and closeness was impossible for me, but I was wrong.”

Castiel yanks Dean so that he’s sitting on his lap. Dean smiles down at him, his cheeks flushed and his eyes flickering. “Oh yea? How wrong?”

He feels Castiel move underneath him, and his hard cock against his ass. “Very wrong,” he breathes as they kiss again, this time with more hunger. Dean isn’t sure if he wants to laugh or cry, but halle-friggin-lujah!

Castiel’s fingers dig into the flesh of his ass, and he moves Dean on top of him, his cock grinding against Cas’ stomach. Soon, Dean is pulling up for air, panting heavily and his mouth curling into a half smile.

He could just stare at him all night, and he'd be fine with that. The way his hair is just a little unkempt than normal, his eyes so wide and blue, they suck him into his soul, his mouth all pouty and swollen from all the kissing they've been doing. 

“I want to be inside you, Dean,” Castiel says, his breath low and husky, making Dean almost come right then and there.

The angel doesn’t waste anytime getting Dean ready with the lube he just grabbed from the nightstand. His fingers slide in and out, easily while Dean hangs forward, his hands resting on the headboard above Castiel’s head. He’s moaning, and loudly, and he doesn’t give a fuck. Let Sam hear them. Hell, the the world hear them.

When Castiel slips the tip in, Dean gasps. He’s never had anything that big in there, but Cas is slow, taking his time as he inches in, until Dean can feel his ass against his pelvis. His cock is throbbing in his angel’s hand now, and with each thrust inside him, Dean feels like he’s ready to explode.

“Holy shit, Cas…”

“Are you okay? I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Dean smiles, lowering his head to kiss him. “No, just keep moving.”

And Cas does, a little faster, as he breathes harder, grabbing Dean’s ass and moving him on top of him, pumping him. “Is this… good?”

Dean nods, not even able to speak now, his angel hitting that spot inside of him. He looks down at Castiel, and their eyes meet, blue and green, and he wants to just wrap him in his arms, cry like a baby at how lucky they are, and never let him go.

Just then, Cas cries out, closing his eyes as he spills inside of Dean. He's pulsating inside of him and it makes Dean come so hard, he thinks he’s close to fainting. He slows down, keeping Castiel joined with him as he lowers his chest and kisses his angel, tenderly.

“Well, at least we know it all works.”

Castiel pinches his ass and Dean lets out a whelp. Soon they’re both laughing and in a flash, Castiel cleans them up, making Dean shake his head. Dean slides off of his angel and lies on his side, smiling. A weight feels like it's been lifted off of them, and it's not just about the sex, it's about Castiel not leaving him. He's staying.

“Did you really think you’d be unable to…”

Cas turns to his side, facing Dean. “Well, I’ve been aroused while being powered up but… I was just afraid it was hit or miss. Like I would have no control over it.”

Dean smirks. “Well, you definitely had a lot of control right there.”

“Did you like it?” Castiel asks him, staring at him with wide eyes.

He nods. “Very much, Cas.” and maybe it’s the way he’s looking at him right now, those blue eyes, big and shining, his head tilted in that usual way that makes his angel look more like a puppy than a man, but Dean’s heart grows heavy.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he asserts. He knows Cas understands what he's referring to.

“Dean, I- I just didn’t know what will happen with us. I was torn. So torn…”

“I know. I get it. But whenever you have questions, or concerns, can we discuss them, you know… together?”

Castiel nods.

“Good. ‘Cause this last week has been hell.”

“I'm sorry, Dean.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Dean kisses him. “Just be here.”

They share a smile and then Castiel's eyes widen. He sits up, zapping Dean’s clothes back on him, and he jumps at the strange feeling of being naked one second, and fully clothed the next. He watches Castiel hop from his bed and dig through Dean’s things.

“What are you doing?”

Castiel ignores him as he rummages through his bags, and then he let’s out sigh, saying, “A ha, here it is.”

“Here _what_ is?”

He smiles at Dean, stepping into his boxers, and then a pair of jeans. It’s when Castiel pulls on his purple Sly & the Family Stone t-shirt that Dean grins back at him. “Miss it?”

A second later, Castiel is racing out of Dean’s room, and now Dean is on his feet, ready to chase after him, really confused as to what’s going in. He’s dragging Sam through the door moments later, and his poor little brother looks as confused as he does.

“What the hell’s going on?” Sam asks, eyeing the two of them.

Cas smiles at them. “I don’t know how much time I have left, you know, with my powers, so I wanted to do this one last thing…”

Dean and Sam share a look when Castiel rests a hand on each of their shoulders, and then in a flash, they’re standing in a crowded field, at dawn, the smell of marijuana and strawberries all around them. Dean bends over, still dizzy as Castiel puts his arm around him.

“Holy shit,” Sam says.

Just then Dean almost chokes when he hears the beginning of _Heaven and Hell_ , by the Who, blasting through the field. He looks up at the stage and there they are, the entire band. “Woodstock,” Dean says.

Castiel smiles at him. “I wanted you to enjoy it. It was too bad we had to leave when we did, and--”

Dean shuts him up with a kiss. He brings him into his arms, his lips locked with his angel’s. “I love you,” Dean tells him once they pull apart. He glances at Sam who is in utter shock as he stares at the stage.

“I can’t believe…”

“Summer of love, Sammy,” Dean tells him, turning back to Castiel who is still smiling.

For the rest of the the show, they sit in the grass, Dean and Cas hand in hand, with Sam beside them. It’s unreal really, and sure, Castiel having the power to do this is pretty awesome, but it wouldn't even be the same if he wasn’t here with him.

It’s not about what time period they can go to, or how much Castiel can do for them when he’s charged. It’s about being together, being close, being a team, and he thinks Cas gets that now. It’s about being there when no one else is. It’s about never giving up and always having each other’s backs.

Family, love, is never based on how much the person can do for the other.

As Castiel rests his head on his shoulder, he knows he gets it. He knows how much he loves him, no matter what, and that right there is important. Cas will lose his powers, he’ll become human, and Dean will love him all the same.

And they'll get by. They always do. He'll train Cas to be a better hunter, give him some shooting lessons, and for some reason, Dean is 100% okay with this. He won't be scared of Cas' well being, or act like he can't handle himself. 

And they'll become so much more. Spending their days together, being as close as possible. This is a future Dean can look forward to. A future that has him and Cas together.

“Are you happy, Dean?”

Dean smiles, kissing the top of Cas’ head. “With you, I always will be.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for coming along on this wild journey :-) I hope you liked my Destiel adventure, and enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.
> 
> Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews and kudos. It means the world to me. I'm going to start a new story soon so keep a look out for it :-) 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr : frecklesandfeathers.tumblr.com


End file.
